


In the Middle of the Darkest Night

by WIWJ



Series: A Different Tune [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dany comes back and she’s still pissed., F/M, Future, Kids, Song fic, The people of Kings Landing fight back.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:14:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23340799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WIWJ/pseuds/WIWJ
Summary: Sequel to Nobody But You.5 years later Fire and Blood returns to WesterosOur heroes, scattered and bewildered, have to find away to defeat an old allyAnd once again save the realm.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Sarella Sand/Jon Snow, Tyrion Lannister/Sansa Stark
Series: A Different Tune [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678597
Comments: 46
Kudos: 92





	1. You Are Not Hopeless

You are Not Hopeless

Winterfell

  
  


“Sansa!” 

It was so sharp, the way her brother had called her name; and she was sure it had been her brother. The Three Eyed Raven never spoke with urgency; never yelled, never had the edge of fear in his voice. That’s why she’d turned back. Walking a few steps towards him, she was stunned by the look of horror on his face, his eyes focused skyward. She stopped adjusting her son in her arms to pull Cat along faster behind her. She didn't notice the way the evening sky seemed to dim and darken in a moment. 

“Bran what is it?” She’d meant to say, her own voice concerned, but whatever had passed through her lips was immediately drowned out but the roar of rushing heat, followed by the yells and screams of her people. Sansa was immediately flung forward, landing face down at the foot of her brother’s chair. She looked up, stunned and dizzy, to see the fire reflected in his eyes. “Bran?” She whispered, carefully propping herself up on her hands. 

“Cat! Come to me!” Her brother yelled over the throbbing din of chaos around her. “Come to me!” Cat. Her daughter, Cat. She watched through blurry eyes as a grey blue streak launched itself into her brother's arms. “Close your eyes, Catlyn. Close them very tightly.”

“Ser Irwin, bring me the babe!” Her brother shouted, Sansa shook her head, in an attempt to clear it. The babe. Her babe. Sansa could just make out his wails. She’d been holding him.. hadn’t she been..?

“Yes my Lord.” Came the quick reply. 

“Sansa!” Bran yelled again. Bran yelled. She hadn’t heard that voice from his mouth in a decade. “Sansa! Get up! You have to get up!

She pushed herself onto her knees, before Ser Irwin’s hand grasped her upper arm and hauled her to her feet. 

“Can you walk My Lady?” He asked her urgently, dropping the baby into Bran’s outstretched arm. 

“Yes.” She whispered uncertainly, biding her legs to follow as her brother’s guard grasped the handles of his chair and shoved him along the terrain. 

“Where?” The man asked his Lord frantically. She looked at her brother’s back. Her young daughter’s arms encircling his neck, her face smashed into the crook. 

Bran was silent for a moment and Sansa’s brain started to register the sounds around her. The rush of fire. The crack of wood. The yelling. So much yelling. 

“Hunters gate.” Bran said suddenly. “Go to the Hunters gate.” 

“Tyrion!” Sansa yelled quickly, as the world flooded back to her senses. Smoke. Fire. Burning. 

“After!” He yelled back. “After!” 

A small crowd gathered around them as they rushed past the Library Tower. Someone had her screaming son in their arms, there was blood on his forehead. Two people were pushing Bran’s chair, shoving it over stones and burnt logs. A man had grabbed her upper arm and hand and was rushing her along. 

“My Lady.” He kept calling to her like a plea. “My Lady.” 

The Inner and Outer gates had already been opened when they arrived and she halted when she realized her brother’s chair was no longer keeping pace with her ushered steps. 

“Bran!” She yelled, looking back as Ser Irwin pried Cat from his neck. 

“Go!” He yelled back at her. “Go!” 

“No!” She screamed as the Knight holding her daughter hurried past her to the outer gate. “Bran!” 

“Bear Island!” He yelled back at her as the other man who had been helping wheel him started to pull back.

“No!” She yelled again, starting back towards the gate as a woman rushed past her holding her son. 

“Take her!” Bran yelled forcefully. “Take her!” 

“No!” She screamed again as she realized what was happening. 

“Lower the Gate!” Bran Stark commanded in a firm voice before another man grabbed her other arm. She struggled against them until the heavy gate slid down and obscured her brother from view. 

“No.” She whispered, looking up at the smoke and flames shooting over the walls. “No.”

Her eyes lifted higher, for the first time seeing the large black wings as the great beast turned and came at Winterfell for the other side. 

She screamed as someone lifted her off her feet and started to run. 

They didn’t stop running until they had reached the thick cover of the Wolfswood.

  
  


………………..

  
  


Tyrion Lannister woke to find himself laying at the feet of Tormund Giantsbane, in the hull of a small rowboat.

“Wha-?” His body jolted as the large man leaned forward to look at his face.

“Bout time you woke up.” He growled at him, so close Tyrion could smell the smoke in his grimy beard. 

“Where-?” 

“Nearly to Cerwin.” Came a voice above his left, he turned to find Ser Ed Bole, his usual Stewards Guard. 

“Sansa? The Children?” He said suddenly with alarm. 

“Deep in the Wolfswood.” Tormund furrowed a bushy eyebrow at him as it all started to reappear in his mind. Fire. Screaming. Smoke. Bran. “Remember?”

“I’m starting to.” He gulped, jumping slightly as Ser Ed quickly reached out a water skin to him. “Yes. How much longer till we reach Lady Jonelle.” 

“An hour. Two.” Ed shrugs.

“I need to send a-.” 

“Raven.” Tormund snorts. “Yes we know. We knew before, and now we really know because you’ve been muttering it for four hours now.” 

“Winterfell?” He asks warily, remembering the raging fire. Tormund blinks at him and Ser Ed looks quickly away with a fast shake of his head. 

“Bran?” 

“He insisted he be left behind. A few Free Folk and Ser Gordon stayed with him.” Tormund growled. 

“There must always be a Stark in Winterfell.” Tyrion breathed. 

“Even when WInterfell is a pile of burnt rocks.” Tormund growled.

“We’ve got to get to Jon.” The Lord of burnt rocks told him glumly. 

…………………….

Lady Jonelle’s Castle Guard had immediately commandeered Tormund to help him in proper construction of scorpions. Tyrion had watched him eye them with a disgusted shake of his head when they arrived. 

“They’re incorrect aren’t they?” The squirrelly man had asked him right away. “We’re not good with plans. We tried-.” 

“Gather your men.” He huffed, stalking towards the glorified slingshot.

Lady Cerwin herself huffed and puffed behind Lord Stark, peppering him with woeful questions and mournful concerns. 

“What will become of us?!” She moaned, turning her long fur cloak so hard it hit the back of Tyrion’s chair. “My Lord? What will become of us?”

“Lady Jonelle, Please!” Tyrion hissed in irritation. “I need to focus!” He looked over at Ser Bole. “I’m trying to send a coded message and it’s not as easy as one might assume.” Bole moved towards the woman, distracting her with some minor task. “2..3... “ The man whispered to himself. “1..2..3..”

“My Lady?” 

“Yes Maester?”

“A Raven.”

Tyrion tried to concentrate. He looked at the paper before him. 

“I haven’t written Lady Sybelle.” She whispered warily. “Sent no package.”

“Lord Tyrion.” Ed says softly, grinning at the paper. “I think this is to you.”

Tyrion dropped his quill and reached out for the scroll with wide worried eyes. 

My Lady, 

I wanted to let you know that we were delighted to receive your packages. All three arrived intact. The little ones are simply darling. I have them in a safe temporary spot before I get them someplace more permanent. I think you were right in your suggestion and I will place them there tomorrow. 

The North Remembers it’s sisters, even in Winter. 

Lady Sybelle Glover

Deepwood Motte. 

Tyrion sighed softly, letting his eyes sink shut. 

“Lady Stark and the children have arrived at Deepwood Motte, they’ll continue on to their safe house tomorrow.” Ser Ed explained to Lady Cerwin with patients as Tyrion collected himself, folded the letter into his pants pocket and continued with his scroll. 

………..

“My Lady you must eat something.” Alysane Mormont looked at the woman at the table, babe clutched to her breast, her hand hooked around her daughter's head, pressing the young girl into her shoulder. If she heard her, she gave no clues. The other woman sighed, forcing a smile and looking at the child. “Lady Cat? Do you like Lemon Cakes as much as your Lady Mother?” 

The little girl smiled slightly and Alysane took that as a yes, pulling out a chair and setting the treat before it at the table. Cat looked at her mother and Sansa’s arm dropped away. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have much in the way of playthings.” She said, leaning forward to meet her eyes. “My Sister Lyanna liked blocks. She had soldiers and animals that my uncle made for her out of wood. I’ll look for them.”

“I have a cousin named Lyanna. She’s little, almost three.” Four year old Cat said softly, flecks of yellow breading falling over her lips. “Is your sister in Kings Landing like her?” 

“No.” The Lady of House Mormont smiled sadly. “She died.” 

Cat continued chewing, her big Lannister eyes watching with mild curiosity as the gears in her brain started to turn. 

“Did a dragon burn her?” She asked, tipping her head to the left in a way that reminded Alysane of the girl’s father. Her lips worked slowly in an attempt to speak but no words came. 

“No.” Sansa Stark’s flat voice hoarse from days without use, she stared straight ahead. “A dead giant crushed her to death.”

The dark hair woman’s eyes shot to the Lady of Winterfell, her brows furrowing. Catlyn turned to her mother, slowly laying the cake back on the small plate. 

“My Lady.” Came the exasperated voice of Ser Irwin from the door way.

“No use lying to her.” Sansa mumbled. “Death has returned to Winterfell. Should I not explain to her why?”

The knight looked to their host, she gulped, her eyes turning to the child. 

“Should we look for those toys then?” Alysane’s dark brows raised above her deep orbs. The little girl nodded mutely, allowing herself to be led away.

“You cannot give up.” Ser Irwin told her earnestly. 

“My home is destroyed. My brother” Her face contorted. “My husband.” 

“Lord Bran lives! You’ve seen the ravens.”

“That could be all that’s left of him Ser!” She growled. “My other siblings sit defenseless and unwarned and I have been scuttled off to an island on edge of the world.”

“That was the plan, My Lady. To keep you safe until someone can reach you.”

“What if no one comes, Ser?” She sniffed. “What if no one comes?”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. There’s Never Been a Moment

There’s never been a moment (Storms End) 

  
  


Gendry Baratheon looked out over the balcony as his wife’s arrow found its mark in a leafless tree limb below, framed by the rising sun. 

“Now you’re just showing off.” He huffed at her drolly, watching the left side of her face quirk up, She leaned forward a little more, their son straddling the thigh she had slung over the rampart. He winced. “You’re going to beat me before the sun fully rises. No need to sacrifice our heir.”

He reached out an arm and pressed it against Ned’s chest. 

“He’s strapped to my torso Gendry, how do you still fear I’m going to drop him?” She snorted. 

“Knots give way, Arya.” He breathed as his wife used their son’s fingers beneath her own to pull carefully back on the bow. 

“Not my knots.” She told him sharply, letting her arrow loose. “Wonderful.” She praised her son, clapping his hands together beneath her own. Gendry smiled. 

“My Lord!” Called a voice from behind them. “My Lady. A Raven. From Winterfell.”

“Thank you, Maester Pylos.” The man gave him a half bow as he glanced at his wife waving towards his study.. 

He was already sitting at the table, his finger breaking the direwolf seal as Arya yanked her leg back over the balcony and made her way back into the room. 

“Help me.” She mumbled, turning her back to present him one of the knots holding the baby sling in place. He smirked at her and gave it a few tugs. “What? I said they were secure.” 

He watched her wiggle Ned out for a second before dropping his eyes to the parchment. 

“I think Tyrion wrote this drunk. It makes no-.” His voice trailed off, beside him, Arya froze a moment bent over the crib she was settling her son into. “Arya. The post script..”

“Seven Hells.” She mumbled, looking around the room for a second like a wild animal.

“Do I count the greeting? Where do I start? Do you remember where I start?” He looked helplessly back at the paper. 

Her face remained blank as she approached a table by the bookcase and swept everything on it to the floor. Ned started to cry as she yanked the table covering back and flung her body towards the near invisible rectangle in the center, stabbing it with her dagger to pull it open. Gendry watched her fumble through the papers until she got to the right page. 

“Letters from Winterfell. The letter will contain a postscript with a number. Begin counting off the first word of the letter’s body..”

“Oh Gods.” Gendry said softly. “Gods.”

……………………

“We don’t know if it’s her.” Maester Pylos reminded his Lord and Lady softly. 

“Hells we don’t!” Grunted The Hound, leaning back in his chair to growl at the young Maester. “What besides a dragon could turn Winterfell to rubble?”

Arya grunted, rubbing her hands across her face. Rubble. 

“The ships are ready, My Lord.” Gendry’s Fleet Captain stuck his head in the room. Gendry nodded. 

“Pylos.” Gendry muttered, reaching for the parchment on the desk and handing it to him. “You are to personally put this into the hands of Selwyn Tarth. No one else. Do you understand?” 

“Yes Sir.”

He looked at the Hound. 

“Your men have mounted and armed all our scorpions?” The other man’s face bobbed in affirmative. 

“Penrose will act as commander in your stead.” Arya said softly. “I have something only you can do.”

“Arya.” Gendry sighed painfully. 

“Do not fight me anymore on this.” She told him, her fierce face meeting his. “You won’t win.” 

He looked away and she looked back at Sandor, who sat statue still waiting for orders. She swallowed hard and moved towards the side of the room, pulling her ten month old from the crib and heading back across the room. 

“You’ll take Ned to Lord Connignton.” She pressed her lips together hard before continuing. “His nurse will travel with you. Hot Pie will be expecting him.” 

Sandor looked at the boy as Arya pressed a silent kiss to her son’s head and extended her arms. The baby dangled from her hands, smacking his drool covered lips. His chubby face blinking back at the Hound, who tilted his head to sneer at Arya. Her face remained stone as she thrust the babe towards him with a little more force. The child giggled as his legs swung. Gendry pressed his eyes shut tightly at the sound, Clagane took the babe with a grunt. 

“And you My Lady?” Ser Robert Penrose asked her quickly as she strapped Needle around her waist. “Where will you be?” 

“King’s Landing.” She gulped, pushing past her husband and down the stairs without looking back. “And I’m nobody’s Lady.” She hissed, Gendry dropped his head back and stared at the ceiling. “Come on. We don’t have time to waste.”

He rose slowly, walking over and cupping his son's head with his hand, forcing a smile to his face. Ned smiled back at him. The Lord of the Stormlands made quick eye contact with the Hound before giving a swift nod and following his wife out the door. 

  
  


………………..

When the ship set off she could see the Hound attaching horses to a carriage as Ned’s nurse sliped inside, carrying her baby in a wicker basket. Her heart pounded in her ears when her husband reached out to her. She pushed back from the rail, shouldering past him and down the stairs into their cabin. The door was still swinging when he grasped it and shut it, sliding the bar into place before turning to her. 

“Never get distracted.” She muttered. “If you are with your troubles-.”

“Arya.” He called softly. 

“-When fighting happens, more trouble for you.”

“Arya stop.” He grabbed at her arm and tugged her to his chest, forcing her closer when she tried to push away. 

“Fear cuts deeper than swords.” She whispered. “Fear cuts deeper than-.”

“Shhh.” He pressed his face into her hair. “It’s alright.”

“Fear cuts deeper than-.” Her voice quivered and she shook her head quickly, but he didn’t let go. “Fear cuts-.”

“It’s okay to be afraid.” He told her softly. 

“No!” She growled pushing him away. “I can’t.. I should have never. I shouldn’t have…” 

“It may be easier.” He said softly, nodding his head. “It may be. I remember it seeming easier. When you have nothing. When you have no home, no family. Nothing they can take from you.” 

Arya pushed her hands against the small desk at the side of the wall. Her breath heaving. 

“But there’s also not much of a point then is there?” He swallowed. 

“What?”

“What’s it worth? Not having anything to lose just means you don’t have anything that’s worth having.”

“You’re not making sense.” She huffed. 

“We will fight to protect what we’ve built.” He moved behind her, his large hands clamping on to her upper arms. “To rescue your sister and her children. To hold onto the progress that your brother has painstakingly crafted from the rubble. We will fight for the Stormlands. Our people. They’ve grown so much. Prospered, because of the lessons that your father left in you and in Sansa and in Jon. Because of all the years that Tywin Lannister lectured Ser Jaime and Tyrion about palace intrigue and how to effectively rule in the den of vipers.” She snorted, and he could feel her body relax. “You’ve been a good Lady Paramount and last I checked, you're still the same fierce deadly little wolf you’ve always been.” 

She leaned back against him. 

“You’ve loved our son, as your mother loved you and your siblings.” He felt her take a staggered breath. “They live in us, because that’s the point Arya. That’s the whole point. We are going to fight, and love and loyalty makes us strong. We’re going to fight for our son and our home.” Arya turned in his arms and he folded them around her. “It’s not a weakness. It’s a strength.” 

“We have to get to Jon.” She breathed. “I’ll feel better when I know he’s-.” 

“We will.” He sighed, his lips pressing against the crown of her head. “We will.”


	3. You were forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder. Dany is really dark in this story.  
> You’ve been warned.

You were forgotten 

Castle Black

She waited, in the abandoned ruin of the place Jon once lived. Looking over the piles of scrawled notes. Little pieces of messages sent by her very own little birds. Small scraps of paper littering the old dusty table. 

She lifted one into her hands and examined it by the light of the candle.

_Tyrion Lannister married Sansa Stark, becoming a Stark himself. Lord of Winterfell_. 

Sansa Stark, who had poisoned Tyrion and Jon against her. Who had used her in her own war, then discarded her. Seemed she hadn’t wanted a sovereign North as badly when she controlled the whims of the King in the South. She continued through her stack of updates, pinching each new one firmly between her fingers above the next. 

_Winterfell welcomes female heir._

_Lord and Lady of Winterfell travel to King's Landing._

_Winterfell welcomes male heir._

_King Jon travels to Winterfell, a large feast held in his honor._

Sansa stark was burned and buried in the rubble now, along with her traitor of a husband. She pressed that note into her hand. 

_Lord and Lady of Winterfell dead with their heirs. Bran Stark sits as Lord of the Destruction._

She blinked at the paper, her head tilting as the light from the candle bounced off her eyes. 

She would not repair Winterfell, Dany decided. She’d rise up another house to hold the north for her. Dreadfort perhaps. Yes. Dreadfort, as a reminder.

At one time, young and innocent, she’d have bristled at the thought of using a rapists memory to invoke terror. Sometimes, if she tried, she could remember that girl so full of righteousness and purity. 

But that same girl had grown to love her rapist. She’d taken matters into her own hands, learned how to use her sexuality to gain control. Grown to rule in his stead. Her body had served her well in her conquests, and she’d learned to use it as a tool. 

Men betray you in the end. She blinked, setting aside the notes and focusing on the flame. Or they die before they can. 

She didn’t know why she hadn’t killed them that day in the throne room. Why she had left them all standing, mouths agape at the justice she’d unleashed. Justice for Missandei. 

Her mind flickered to Grey Worm and she felt a stab of anger make its way up her spine. Men betray you in the end, even if your head has been severed from your body before they do. 

_Grey Worm is now called Ser Grey. He heads the City Watch as Lord Commander. He breaks bread in the throne room with the small council._

That note had been particularly difficult to read. 

The throne-less throne room. She had seen to that.

.....

Her memory of what transpired in the at room still stood crystal clear. Ash falling like snow, just as the prophecy foresaw.

The Lannister twins had been both in bloody heaps, Tyrion desperately pressing cloths to his brother’s sides while blood trickled and pooled from his sister. He’d still had time to lift his disgusted eyes to her. 

“Why?” He’d had the audacity to ask. 

“Justice.” She’d sneered. 

“Justice?” Jon had muttered, as he’d stood from where he’d been kneeling trying to help save the life of the man who had killed her father, in the very same room. “For what?” He squinted his eyes tightly. “For not bowing fast enough before your flames?” He had made a move towards her. “For not cheering Khalesi or calling you mother as you rode in on your great beast?” 

She still remembered the blow of his words as she’d clutched tighter to the back of her only surviving child, born from the fire of her grief. 

“Jon..” Tyrion’s warning turned his gaze from hers and whatever he saw in the Imp’s eyes seemed to sober him. He’d thought in that moment she meant to burn him. She’d briefly wondered if he could be burnt. A true test of who was a dragon and who wasn’t. 

“I am the rightful Queen of-.”

“Look out there.” He shouted, pointing towards the windows. “Look at what you’ve done. Look at the corpses of the men you fought beside. Of your Dothraki of your Unsullied. Fire knows no allegiance.” He gulped harshly. “My brothers in black are out there. My sister is out there! I was out there!” His pinched face searched hers for something he did not find. “Look at the innocents, the children, as they lay smoking on the scorched ground and tell me this is your justice.” 

“Jon!” Tyrion called again, with more urgency, before his focus returned to his brother. 

“Tell me of your knoble rule. Of how you’ll break the wheel.” He continued, his face morphed into one of disgust. “Oh breaker of chains.” 

“Jon!” Tyrion shouted, reaching out and grasping the man’s cloak and yanking at him with a strength she didn’t know he had. 

Later Dany would wonder what Tyrion saw in her, that told him what she was about to do. Later she would wonder if she would have scorched her lover, her nephew, the only other living dragon, if her former Hand had not urged him away, but at the time, she’d simply aimed her dragon fire at where he had stood. 

Tyrion had instinctively covered what of his brother he could. Jon lifted his cloak above his head, as if it would shield them.

The room smoked and smoldered and Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, First of her name, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First men, Protector of the Realm, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, Breaker of Chains, Queen of Mereen, flew away. In her wake she left fire and blood, and a lump of melted iron. 

……………

She’d headed back across the Narrow Sea. Back to her people. 

Only the Great Grass Sea was no longer hers. The new Khalasar had little interest, and simply led what remained of the Dothraki on, paying her, and even her dragon, little regard. Men betray you in the end.

Yunkai had scorpions, spears soared the second Drogon was but a shadow in the sky. Dany tended to the dragons two wounds before he retreated to the Bone Mountains, leaving her to travel on to Mereen alone. 

Mereen was in ruin. Rumors were that once the Second Sons were overthrown, Dario had fled to Pentos. 

Men betray you in the end.

The years she spent in Mereen had not bore fruit. It seemed without dragons she was but a voice in a crowd of a people split between nostalgia for days of the order of slavery and bitterness at what some deemed her betrayal. In the end, she’d conceded that once again, she would not be hailed as the returning rightful queen. 

Not that there was no one there on her side. She still had influence, and that was power. Just like the last time, a small contingent of people began to surround her. It was in Mereen where she began to receive messages. The first from a woman pushing a fruit cart who had bumped into her before profusely apologizing by grasping her hand and shoving a small scrap of paper into it. 

_You have supporters in Westeros seeking vengeance._

And that’s when she began plotting her revenge. 

  
  



	4. There is no distance that can’t be covered.

There is no distance that can’t be covered

Kings Landing

…….

“And you must be very good.” Jaime whispered to his daughter as he held her to his chest. “And help Mummy with the little ones. And listen to Ser Podrick. And hold your sister's hand, you know how she gets into mischief.”

“But when will you come, Papa?” Joanna’s large blue eyes would be his undoing. 

“I have to help King Jon with the problem. Then I will come.” He reassured her. “Tell me you will help Mummy, Jo.”

“I will help Mummy.” She sighed dropping her temple at the crook of her father's neck. “I will make sure Lya stays with me.” 

“You're a wonderful big sister.” He reminded her. 

“Lady Joanna.” Podrick called from the doorway, Arthur dangling from his arms. “Lady Olenna would like your help in choosing what to bring along.” 

Jaime pressed a kiss to Jo’s golden head and slid her to the floor. He stood and met Pod at the door, looking at his squirming son. 

“I won’t let anything happen to them, Ser.” He told him softly. “You know I’d use my last swing to protect them.”

“I know.” Jaime swallowed, clearing the thick emotion from his throat, clapping his hand on Pod’s shoulder. “I know that you would.” 

He pulled back and cupped his palm around Arthur’s face. 

“Do you want to take him?” Pod pushed him forward but Jaime’s head shook briskly as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to his son’s cheek. “No. There’s not enough time. Brienne needs-.” He swallowed the words before he could let them sink in. “Make sure she sleeps.” He continued. “Gilly will offer to take the baby on occasion, she’s gotten a wet nurse. She’ll listen to you. Make her-.”

“I will, Ser.” Pod croaked. “You have my word.” 

“Be a good boy please, son.” Jaime’s voice grated in his throat as he withdrew and made his way out the door. 

He found his wife in their chamber, sitting on their bed clutching their infant son in the crook of her arm, as chambermaids filled trunks for porters to rush off. Lya sat at her feet playing with a doll that looked like a Myrish Princess. She lifted her red eyes to his. 

“Celia.” He said softly, gently catching the arms of one of Joanna’s favorite maids. “Can you take the children to the solar please? Lady Tarly is already there.” 

“Yes Lord Hand.” She whispered as Jaime crossed the room and lifted Lyanna into his arms. “Listen to your Papa now, Wildling.” He pressed his face to her cheek. “You try your very best to stay out of trouble. Stay out from underfoot.” The little girl leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck and Jaime let his eyes slip shut. “You will go with Celia to find Jojo and Olenna. Get your doll.” He kissed her forehead before returning her to her spot and reaching for the baby. 

“You’ve barely held him.” Brienne murmured absently as he took the babe in his arms. 

“Yes, but I held him first.” He told her flippantly, his eyebrows rising while the gaze beneath them tried to remember every inch of him. 

“I was thinking of how to mark him.” Brienne said softly, and Jaime flipped his eyes to her. “Jo is old enough to tell people who she is. Lya and Arthur have such a distinct look, but he’s just a baby.” Her voice broke. “If you had to find him, how would you-?”

“I would find him next to his mother.” Jaime told her calmingly, his eyes running over the babe again before handing him off to Celia with a kiss. “She’s not an easy woman to miss in any crowd.” He sat beside her, sliding his right arm behind her back and grasping her hand with his. 

“I think I’ll have him marked anyway.” She whispered. “Just in case? Something small, on his hip? Like Gilly did with Sam before the long night?”

“He has Lannister eyes.” Jaime fought to speak over the lump in his throat. “I’m pretty sure those are my father’s eyebrows. He already looks like he’s judging me.”

Brienne huffed out a small laugh that turned into a sob. Jaime pulled her closer. 

“I’m so angry at you.” She cried into his shoulder. “You have no idea how angry.”

“I do know.” He breathed, pressing kisses to her damp face. “I know.”

“I should stay-.”

“No.” He told her firmly. “We’re running out of time. Let’s not do this. Please? You are going with our children. If King’s Landing falls then you will go to Dorne and protect the Queen. Arya will go for Sansa and you will restart what we have begun here.” 

“Jaime, I can’t-.”

“You can and you will.” He told her sharply, before lowering his tone and pressing his face into her neck speaking softer. “You can and you will. It’s our duty.” 

He pulled her hand to the pommel of the sword at his hip and held it there without raising his head. 

“You once told me to think of you when I wielded this. To remember to come back to you. I will do that.” He pushed their grasp to Oathkeeper which nestled in its scabbard beside her on the bed, laying their palms against the covered blade. “And you will keep your oaths.” 

He felt her head sag into his before pulling back, he lifted his face and kissed her soundly. 

“Listen to Pod, take his council.” Jaime murmured between kisses. “Let Gilly help with the babe. Let her help like you’d let me, please?” She squeaked out what he assumed was an affirmative. “Remember you are still healing from the birth, don’t start training like wights are coming. Don’t panic when Arthur doesn’t hit the marks as quickly, he will. He will. Tyrion did, just slower.” He took a deep breath and tried to think of more things he wouldn’t be around to tell his wife when she needed him to. “Don’t listen to any news from anyone who isn’t one of our people and-.”

“Jaime.” Brienne’s hand clasped his chin as her other hand brushed against his cheek. “I love you too.” He blinked at her for a second. 

“I’ll come for you.” He sighed, leaning in until their foreheads touched. 

“I know you will.” She sighed. “You have more lives than Berick Dondarrion.”

“Which is good, since he’s dead.” Jaime raised an eyebrow at her and she smiled. 

“Lord Hand?” Jaime turned towards the door to see Addam Marbrand standing there. “My Lady, it’s time to go.”

………………

Brienne watched Jaime lift each child into Pod’s waiting arms as they loaded them into the wheelhouse. Young Sam Tarly stood rigid at his father’s side listening as he imparted comforting words to his mother and sister. Ser Addam and Bronn both hovered nearby. 

She figured it was both for protection and in support of Jaime. She moved carefully in her armor, still too tight in some areas to sit comfortably, but it made her feel more prepared. Jaime moved back to her and met her eyes. 

“Once you’re settled, send word through Kevan if you can.” He brought his hand to her cheek and traced his thumb there. 

“And your messages will come through Cider Hall. I know Jaime.” She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. He pulled her closer and pressed his lips into hers. She stiffened, the faint blush rising in her cheeks. 

“Still.” He sighed with a short laugh as he pulled away, keeping her hand in his as he led her towards the carriage. “After all this time, my kissing you in public still makes you blush?”

“Don’t cry now, son.” Samwell was whispering to the boy as he hugged him, despite the wetness of his own eyes. “You’ll scare the little children.”

“Yes Father.” The eight year old gulped climbing to sit beside his sister. 

Brienne watched her daughter's fingers reach out from the open window and touch Jaime’s shoulder. He turned and kissed her hand, caressing her fingers. 

“Don’t forget to come find us, Papa.” She said softly. 

“Never, Sweetling.” He smiled at her as Gilly pulled her back onto her lap as Brienne started towards the steps. He met his wife’s eyes. “Your Mummy and I always find our way back to each other eventually.”

Brienne swallowed hard before turning and pulling him towards her, molding her mouth to his, her hand carding through his hair as his arms instinctively wrapped tightly around her waist. 

“At least give some notice so we can cover the children’s eyes.” Bronn grunted, moving his palm in front of the Grandmaster’s face just as she pushed away from her husband and stood on the first step of the wheelhouse.

“Goodbye Ser Jaime.” She said softly, removing her eyes from his and slipping onto her seat. Joanna clambered onto her mother's lap. 

“Goodbye Brienne.” He said just as softly as they started to pull away. She looked back just before the courtyard light faded away, meeting his gaze and holding it. Bronn clapped him on the shoulder and led him away until a hazy darkness surrounded them both. 

…………….

Addam Marbrand had become accustomed to his King’s trips to the city. It had been the norm of the last three years, but today he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the sky. He looked at Gray Worm, who was also scouring the clouds looking for any sign of danger as Jon spoke.

“Our children, and anyone unable to fight will be sheltered in the safety zones in the hall of learning. Each community representative has more information on this. Those left will man the scorpions and watch towers. Although we hoped it would never come, we’ve trained for this moment. We will not let Kings Landing burn again. We will protect our city and our people.” 

The people cheered and chanted at Jon, and Addam’s eyes landed on Jaime who stood rod straight beside his King, back in armor for the first time in years. 

“Each of your leaders knows what to do and will have further instructions. If anyone has any questions or ideas please submit them, we will overcome this challenge together.” 

Jaime’s eyes fell on Addam and he offered him a faint smile. Jon shined in moments like this, their reluctant sovereign, the people took to him so easily. They followed him without question. They would die for him, and for each other, to protect what they had built. 

“Makes you want to kiss his ring doesn’t it?” Jaime sighed coming up next to him as Jon made his way back to the awaiting horses, on the way to the next waiting group. 

“Never ceases to amaze me.” Addam shook his head. “I’ve been thinking about what you asked me before, about Ser Gray?” Jaime raised an eyebrow at him. “I trust him.” 

Beside him, his childhood friend exhaled slowly. 

“I do too.” He admitted. “I just wanted someone else's opinion, I think. There is just too much of this we don’t know anything about.”

“We’ll know more when Tyrion gets here.” Addam reminded him. 

“God I hope he hurries.” Jaime grunted, pulling himself onto his horse beside Jon.

…..

They had known it was the plan all along, but Jon could still feel Jaime’s unease as Tormund and Ser Ed carried the small wooden box from the crowns flag ship across the planks before bowing before the King and loading it into the carriage. Jaime, head lowered, climbed in beside it as his King spoke quietly to the pallbearers. 

By the time he’d joined his Hand, his good brother was pushing himself out of the coffin and smoothing his palms over his vest. The older Lannister brother rubbed his lone thumb across his lips before sighing dramatically. 

“What the hell happened?” He asked finally. 

“Blood and Fire.” Tyrion murmured. 

“Sansa?” Jon croaked. “The children? Bran?”

“Sansa and the children are safe on Bear Island. Bran sent Ser Irwin with them.” Tyrion promised. “The Wildlings have a group at WestWatch, we’d heard nothing from them. Nothing was suspect.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It was a beautiful morning, almost warm by Northern standards. We broke our fast with Bran, I left to hear petitions, Sansa took the children for a walk, the were coming back from leaving Bran in the God’s Wood and the sky opened up and flames rained down. Castle walls trembled shook before the crumbled to the ground.” Tyrion’s voice was sharp and irritated, he rubbed at his face and tried to soften his tone.“Ed and Tormund were both holding court with me. By the time they’d fished me out of the rubble Bran had Sansa and the children out the Hunters Gate and into the Wolfswood.”

Jon nodded, looking at Jaime. The older Lannister brother looked towards his King before rubbing his hand over his stump. 

“Revenge it is then.” Jon sighed heavily. “But why now? Why after all this time.”

“There is no why.” Tyrion muttered. “It’s all in the way the coin landed.”

The King studied the gentle tapping of Jaime’s fingers against his false appendage. He’d gotten so used to seeing him without the gold rock, but today his Hand sat next to him in full Lannister red, with embroidered lions and deep rich chocolate leathers. An outfit for picking up the body of one’s brother, he supposed. 

Jon listened to the rhythmic tapping. 

“What?” He knew Jaime was stewing.

“Why now?” Jaime whispered, his eyes lifting to his brothers. “How long do you suppose a royal announcement would take to cross the Narrow Sea, wind itself around Essos and land in Mereen? Ten moons? A full turn of the season?” 

Across from them, Tyrion’s head bobbed up and he let out an uncomfortable huff before wincing at his good brother. 

“I’m not following.” Jon swallowed.

“She’ll hit Storm’s End next.” The Warden of the West held his eyes locked with his brother’s, nodding at the man's words. 

“Probably.” Jaime swallowed. “It’s what Tywin would have done.” 

“I’m sorry. Could one of you take a moment and explain to your King, I don’t speak evil mastermind.” The younger man huffed. 

“Starks.” Jaime looked at him. “She’s targeting Starks.”

  
”We knew that already.” Jon shook his head.

  
“We suspected.” Jaime corrected. “But now we may have just figured out why.”

  
”Care to clue me in?” He huffed looking at Tyrion.

”What has happened in the last year that might have provoked her to anger?”Tyrion teased. “What is something she wanted but couldn’t have? Something she might have wanted from you?”

Jon turned to Jaime, his face passive blinking hard. 

“Robb.” The old knight told him, gently saying his son’s name like a prayer. 

“She’s just learned of Prince Robb.” The Lord of Winterfell nodded at his brother. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. I hear you whisper

I hear you whisper

(Dorne)

Sarella Stark marched across the polished floors of Sunspear, listening to the clack of her heels echo in the caverness room. Ser Balon lagged a few feet behind, his eyes set on his queen. 

“Where is he?” Her voice rang out crisply. 

“Waiting for you in the solar.” Ser Daemon, the household guard told her quickly. 

“And you’re sure it’s him?” She raised her eyebrow.

“He had the proper documentation, Your Grace.” The man sputtered.

“We’re a long way south, Ser.” She tilted her head and looked at him. 

“I’ll go before you, Ma’am.” Balon’s rumbling voice called out in the room as he crossed in front of the Queen. 

“We’ll go together, Ser.” The woman smiled sharply, her hand skimming the spot on her hip where her King’s Guard knew she sheathed her dagger. “It’s been a bit boring around here don’t you think? I could use a good rush.” 

“As long as you’ll allow me the first strike, Your Majesty.” He smirked at his charge before making his way into the solar, stopping abruptly. “Lord Tormund, Your Grace.”

The Queen heard the wildling snort before she saw his face. 

“Just Tormund, Ser Balon.” She reminded, grinning wildly as she stretched her arms open. “There are no Lords beyond the Wall.” 

“Crow Queen.” Tormund growled, hugging the woman back. “There is no Wall beyond the Lords!” 

“What are you doing here?” Sarella asked him, pulling back. 

“I was at Winterfell.” His face fell as he looked at his feet. “I brought Lord Tyrion to King’s Landing.”

“It’s bad?” She whispered. 

“It’s lost.” He said softly, lowing his head so all she could see was his bushy red eyebrows. Sarella looked at the floor. 

“Sansa?”

“She and the children are fine. Fled.” He swallowed. “Bran remained.”

“Always to be a Stark in Winterfell.” She smiled sadly. “Jon’s sent you?” He nodded and the Queen ran her teeth along her lip. “He’s evacuated the city’s children? To the safe zones of the Hall-?”

“Aye.” Tormund interrupted, taking a step towards her. “The city is ready, it’s you and the prince he’s worried for.” She shook her head slightly in question. “The Lions feel she’s come for the boy.” 

Sarella’s face blanched, and she turned her head towards Ser Balon. 

“What does His Majesty-?” The King’s Guard began. 

“The Tower of Joy.” Sarella’s airy voice cut in, Balon watched as Tormund gave a stiff nod. “He wants me to go to the Tower of Joy.”

“But why?” Balon grimaced, remembering the stories. 

“Everyone will know to look for me there.” She whispered softly. “Everyone who knows the story. Wolves, Lions, Huntsmen, Krakens, Stags, all our allies know to look for me there.”

“And the Dragon Queen will not.” Tormund stated, holding the woman’s dark brown eyes in his. She looked at Balon who nodded once. 

“I’ll get the Prince. We’ll leave today.” He sighed. 

“No.” Sarella murmured, her eyes moving swiftly left to right. “You must stay with Edrick and my sister. You must help them hold Dorne. Tormund will come with me.” 

“Your Grace-.”

“King’s Guard there will not go unnoticed. Just as absence of it here will also be obvious. My sister and her husband are young. Dorne is at risk because of me.” Her hand reached out and grasped the man’s arm. “I’m asking you to protect my people, Ser.”

“I-.” He shook his head.

“Ser Daemon, call for my sister Obella. She will wear my crown.” She decided. “Her Myrcella’s wet nurse has a babe of Robb’s size. They’ll need to be seen with you at their side, Ser Balon. Have her bring me some clothing for us both.” She turned on her heels and started back towards the great hall passing the servants, their heads dropping into bows and curtsies as she passed. “Belleria, find Tomund some garments appropriate for Dornish heat. Something common. And get a barber to find his face and darken his locks. There are no red heads in Dorne.”

“Yes Your Grace.” The woman whispered quickly. 

“Fetch me Lord Dayne!” She yelled into the air as another servant quickly rushed off. Sarella spun towards her Queen’s Guard. “My Good Brother is young. He is not ready for this Ser. You will need to keep a steady hand. Remind him he will not be forgotten, Westeros will come for him. Dorne will not be forsaken.” 

Ser Balon could only nod as she hurried towards the steps. 

“Tormund? How do you fancy black locks? We’ll cut and slick those curls down as my father would have worn them. Your own spearwife wouldn’t recognize you in the end. You’ll have to capture her all over again.” 

The man yelped out at laugh as he picked up the pace to keep with her. 

………..


	6. Underneath Your Breath

Underneath your breath 

(The Twins) 

  
  


Wylla Blackwater of the Twins perhaps thought she could whisper, but she could not. Brienne tried not to dwell on the irony that the woman’s husband was Master of Whispers as she bit the inside of her cheek. 

“It’s a shame isn’t it?” Wylla had whispered loudly. “She marries the golden lion while Sansa Stark gets the Imp, yet Sansa’s children are born whole while her boy is stunted.” 

“Ser Brienne has been blessed with four healthy children.” Gilly answered tightly. 

“Yes. Sure. But her first born son..” She hissed, her voice full of scandal.

“Arthur is quite spirited, and very healthy.” Lady Tarly tried again. 

“But to be cursed with a dwarf.” She cut in sharply, as if Gilly hadn’t noticed. “The woman’s over six foot tall for seven’s sake.” 

It was her giggle that made Brienne physically bristle, as she lifted Jon from her breast and propped further up on her shoulder, her hand rhythmically patting at his little back. Her gaze falling on her oldest daughter. Joanna’s wide eyes met hers, and she tried to smile. 

_Words are wind, Daughter._ Brienne thought, as she ground her teeth tightly. 

“He’s the heir to Casterly Rock.” Lady Blackwater snorted. 

“ **I** am the heir to Casterly Rock.” Joanna announced boldly, her head turning towards the Lady of the Twins. Wylla froze, her face taking in the little girl’s firm stare. “I will Warden the West after my father. And the Lion cares not for the opinion of the sheep.” 

She slid off her chair and made her way over to where her sister was playing with Lady Wylla’s children, gathering her hand in hers and turning back to her mother. 

“May we be excused, Mumma?” Her daughter’s rod straight back and highly held chin made her ache for her husband. 

“Of course, My Darlings.” Brienne whispered. “I’ll be up to put you to bed soon.” 

“Come Lyanna.” She instructed her sister softly before stopping to curtsy before the other two women. “Lady Tarly. Lady Blackwater.” 

“Lady Lannister.” Gilly smiled warmly at her before meeting Breinne’s eyes. “She’s clearly her father’s child.”

“Yes.” Brienne nodded. “She most certainly is.” 

“I meant no harm Lady Lannister.” Wylla’s contrition was quieter than her whisper. 

“I’m sure Lady Blackwater.” She pressed her lips into a tight smile. “It was the _Imp_ in fact who knighted your husband; who gave him this Lordship, who brokered your marriage, was it not?”

The younger woman dropped her eyes to her lap. 

“I know the Master of Whispers loves the Warden of the North dearly. Is your son not named for him My Lady? Your heir?” Brienne blinked, inhaling slowly. 

“My words were not meant to be disparaging.” She gulped. 

“No.” Brienne swallowed. “You’ve meant it to be supportive I’m sure. The world can be cruel. Lesser people feel the need to mock what they see as weakness. Your support of my son is welcome Lady Wylla, but he won’t need it. He’s a Lion, and as my daughter so clearly states, he will be unconcerned with the opinions of thoughtless sheep. By what right do they judge the Lion?” Brienne blinked,forcing a smile before she turned her eyes to Gilly. “If you’ll excuse me My Lady, I’ll take leave of your hospitality this evening to retire to my children.”

“Lady Lannister, before you go? A raven from Ceder Hill.” Called the Maester from the doorway. Brienne paused taking a breath before nodding to the man. It took all her will not to snatch it greedily from his hands as he moved towards her. Instead she took it gingerly, her fingers trailing over the agreed upon symbol that made it clear it was from him and for her. 

“Thank you.” She said softly, retreating to the rooms in the castle she’d been assigned. 

……...

She found Ser Podrick Payne in a chair by the door, cradling Arthur asleep in his arms. She laid Jon in the cradle before returning to him. 

“I hear Joanna gave quite a roar down stairs.” He whispered. 

“News travels fast.” She sighed, pulling her son into her arms and settling into another seat with him. She took in his small body, running her fingers across the messy curls, still damp from the bath, matted to his forehead. 

“The Tarly children came up with them. Young Sam was in awe of her.” He raised an eyebrow.

“She’s not yet five and she already pounces on her prey.” She rubbed her face, before pressing her hand against her pocket where the tiny scroll was still rolled. “Jaime always talks of how she takes after me, but she was all him down there.”

“I don’t know.” Pod sighed. “I’ve seen the lioness in you a few times, when someone threatened one of your pride.” 

She slid her eyes towards her former squire.

“Perhaps.” She couldn’t help but grin, before dropping her gaze to Arthur again, her brow wrinkling. “I would have said nothing.”

“Brienne..” Pod admonished her guilt softly. “You are a guest in her home-.”

“Jaime is always the one to jump to Arthur’s defences.” She blinked down at her blonde haired boy. “I’ve never had to. My first test and my child has to come to my rescue. What type of mother needs that?”

“Jaime has a lifetime of protecting Tyrion.” Pod reminded her moving until his body was pointed towards hers. “You have had a lifetime of ignoring things people said about you.” 

“Words are wind.” She muttered. “But we both know from our time in the North, wind can damage.”

“It can.” Pod agreed, glancing down at the sleeping boy. He stood and walked towards her. “But a little damage is sometimes what makes the man.” Pod touched the child’s chubby stunted leg before pressing a quick kiss to his mother's head. “Or woman.”   
  


Brienne smiled at him. 

“You’re a good mother.” He shrugged. “Look at how well I turned out.” 

She snorted at him, her eyes rolling. 

“Go to bed then child.” She snickered. 

“I’ll put the girls down first.” He smiled. “You want me to-?”

Brienne felt her arms clutch her 18 month old tighter. 

“No.” She told him too quickly. “I’ll keep him.”

“Do try to get some sleep, _Mummy_.” He grinned, scrambling away as she kicked playfully at him. 

“Good Night Ser Podrick.” She said with fake sternness. 

“Good Night Ser Brienne.” He called back as he moved into the children’s room. 

She watched the door close before pulling out the tiny scroll and unrolling it carefully. It had been tucked inside another sent from Cedar Hill, as planned, and as soon as she opened it she knew he’d written it himself. 

  
  


_My brother’s here. Our good sister is well._

_Miss you terribly. See you soon._

_Kiss them each. Soon, my love. Soon._

“Soon.” She breathed looking back at the scroll.

………. 

She was sending a raven to Casterly when another bird arrived, the Maester of the Twins unfurling the scroll before looking up at her quickly.

“What is it?” She asked, the man hesitated looking at the scroll again. “Tell me.” 

At the sharpness of her friend’s voice, Gilly Tarly looked up from where she’d been thumbing through a book. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked as the Maester handed her the paper without a word. Brienne’s breath quickened as she read the words, a tiny squeak leaving her throat without her permission. 

She closed her eyes, pressing them shut almost as hard as she pressed the paper into her hand before taking a deep breath and stealing her spine. 

Brienne let her wide blue eyes shift around the room before she looked briefly at the little midwife. 

“Lady Tarly it seems there’s been a little situation in Kings Landing.” She clenched her jaw and turned to the maester. “If you could get me some more parchment, and some for the Lady of Highgarden as well?” He nodded. 

“Brienne?” Gilly asked warily. 

“Seems there’s been an incident in Kings Landing.” She swallowed harshly. “I’m calling on my bannermen. I was hoping you’d join me.”

  
  
  
  


  
  



	7. I’ll be your shelter

I’ll be your shelter  
(Previously at Storm’s End)

  
The Hound was not about to give the dragon bitch the satisfaction of casting the castle she’d granted Gendry Barathon to the sea. 

He’d been tracking the small dot as it circled around the Narrow Sea and steadily into Shipbreaker Bay. He’d seen the flaming arrow shot from Tarth in warning just as the sun hit mid sky. He silently hoped that the little island held no significance to her. He didn’t want to be the one to tell Brienne of Tarth her father or her island had fallen. 

He figured that Tyrion had probably tried to educate his queen about the Houses of Westeros, but she didn’t strike him as the listening type. 

_Just a little closer_. He thought to himself watching her weave between the clouds. _Just a little closer and I will show you what House Baratheon has become._

 _Careful Sandor, It almost sounds like you belong with us_. He heard Arya’s voice in his head. 

“Shut up little wolf.” He grunted.

“Ser?” The commander beside him asked quickly. He shot him a glare before fixating on the sky again. 

“Knoc One.” He yelled, listening to the strum of corded rope against hinged wood as the first taste of Storm’s End’s defenses sprung into action. He watched the bolts sail off in every direction. Up. Down. North. South. East. West. 

The dragon veered away from the eastern moving bolts, nearly sailing right into the spears sailing downward. 

_Like that Crazy Bitch_? He ground his teeth together and tried no to get too cocky. The Monster's dead sibling had downed the Wall for Gods’ sake. He looked back at the rain reservoirs and tried to recall each practice run. Gendry stoked the flames against the lower walls until he gathered it was at the same burn as dragon fire for him to douse. He’d almost always been able to douse it without incident. 

_Remember Winterfell_. Arya again. He growled louder as the flying beast swung into view. 

“Knoc Two!” He yelled raising his sword above his head. Bolts flew. 

We can do this all day. He thought. He was glad for the daylight. Running the war games in the night had proved more difficult. Another show of inexperience. She really should have listened to Tyrion more.

A screech filled the air and the Hound’s eyes snapped towards it. They’d nicked a wing. On the second go. He smirked at the beast as it flailed, floundering slightly with it’s torn sail. 

Fire spewed towards the north east side of the drum tower. 

“Wash Four!” He yelled loudly, listening to the rush of water cascade down the side of the outer wall. He scrambled across the rampart until he reached that edge. Steam. He grinned despite himself. Their Lord apparently knew his fire as well as he claimed. He glanced back towards the beast, he’d finish it here. He’d end this before it even got to the capital. He stomped back to his station. Sword poised to call the scorpions again.

“It’s too far out.” Penrose told him firmly as he searched for the landmarks. 

“She’ll have to Land.” He grunted, casting his eyes out towards the land before them. He let his mind touch on the place where he’d handed over the Young Eddard Baratheon to Hot Pie, and for a second regretted leaving him. Just for a second, there was no time for that. 

“I’ll send scouts.” Penrose told him quickly. 

“Fucking Hells.” He snorted. 

“The castle held.” Penrose told him firmly, nodding his head heavily at the large man before him. The Hound looked out at the Stormlands again, before turning back to him with a huff and walking away. 

…………………………..

  
“Lady Mertens feels she’s in Cape Wrath.” Maester Pylos waved the scroll into the air. “She’s had an influx of animals making their way out of the Rain Wood and towards Mistwood.” 

“Do we send aid?” Ser Robert asked in irritation. 

“No.” The Hound said soundly.

“What’s stopping her from roasting the small folk from the Narrow to the Sunset?” Penrose mumbled. “If we’re just going to let her-.”

“Ask Lannister what happened when he tried to confront her on the Gold Road with an army seven times what we’ve got.” Clagane rumbled. “We hold the castle.” 

“And the boy?” Pylos asked softly. The Hound clenched his jaw. “Surely now that she’s seen our arsenal she won’t charge again.” 

The three men sat silently for a few moments before Robert Penrose shook his head. 

“We don’t know if she has working with her. She’s known for winning over simpletons, there is a chance-.“

“No Stormlander will bow to the Dragon Queen.” Pylos snorted. 

“We don’t know that.” He huffed. “She could have people at Griffin's Roost right now!”

“The boy stays.” Sandor Clagane shouted over the other two. “It’s where the little wolf wanted him, so it’s where he stays.” 

The man wasn’t made for choices like this, he mused. He was the second son of a minor house. He had no business playing Castilian to the Stormlands. 

“Get a scroll. Write Tarth. Ask him what the fuck we should do.” 

He lumbered out of Gendry Bartheon’s study and back down to his small dugon of a room, cursing the day he’d ever stumbled across Arya Stark in the first place. 

………..

(In the Rain Wood)

It wasn’t much of an injury. He’d sustained worse, but somehow Drogon had become even more surley than he had been the last time. It was almost as if he _blamed_ her. 

Danny tried to feel her way around the bony parts of his wing to make sure nothing had been splintered, but he’d moved away from his touch, turning his head to the east almost like he was once again ready to take off for bone mountain. Although she knew he’d never get that far. 

She had to give it to Arya Stark, she’d held her castle. Dany grit her teeth; but she’d lost her childhood home, her sister. She’d lose more before their time here was up. And then she’d come out from behind her storm blown walls and show herself. And Dany would offer her up to her child as a peace offering, she’d like to watch her burn. Such a contemptible little thing. 

What she needed was allies, and her allies were far south of here


	8. Over and Over

King’s Landing

(previously)

**  
  
**

Samwell Tarly scurried along the corridor outside of the Tower of the Hand. He moved past the guard at the foot of the stairs and climbed until he reached the wide wooden door, lifting his hand to knock just as it swung open. Jaime Lannister gasped as the man halted his fist just before it landed on the man’s face. 

“Sorry Ser.” He muttered, his round face red with exertion. He looked beyond him, into the room where Allayria Dayne sat at the table. 

“No matter Grand Maester.” The Hand of the King sighed before turning to the hallway and calling a page. “Please fetch the meal for us Petri. Enough for the Grand Maester as well.” He spun back to Sam. “How may I help you?”

His eyes fell on the box in the Maester's hand and vaguely ill look on his face. 

“We have a problem Ser.” He looked down at the box. “I messenger from Storms End arrived today, with this.” 

He hastily moved into the room as Jaime moved back and settled the box on the table, opening the lid. 

Jaime grunted in disgust at the package. Tarly handed him the scroll and his eyes went wide. 

“What?” Allayria set down her drink and slid to her feet. 

“Seems as if the Hound has caught himself a traitorous Raven.” Jaime muttered. “Where is he?”

“On the battlements. I have eyes on him.” Tarley said softly. 

“Add more.” He handed the scroll to his successor who looked up from it with wide eyes. “And send someone for Addam.”   
  


……………………...

**  
  
**

“I don’t like this plan.” Jon huffed, rubbing his face in irritation. 

Jaime Lannister looked at him with a heavy sigh. 

“I can’t say that I care.” He told him flippantly and Jon snorted at him.

“That’s the way you talk to your king?” Jon murmured. 

“Seems so.” The Hand shrugged. “Addam?”

“I agree with Jaime.” He nodded, and Jon made a face. “Sorry, Your Grace.” 

“You’ll keep the Lord Commander here with you?” The King’s hope was wiped away when his friend smirked at him knowingly. Jon’s eyes rolled. 

“I’ll keep Ser Gray with me, the Ser Addam will stay with his King.” He looked at Grey Worm who gave a stark nod. 

“I don’t like this.” The reluctant monarch mumbled.

“She’s coming Jon.” Sam huffed impatiently. “We can’t stop her.”

“Storms End stopped her!” He balked. 

“Yes and in retrospect we should have sent you to Storms End, but we did not..” Arya yelled. “And now it’s too dangerous to go across the sea so you’ll go where your told and you’ll do what we say. You are the King and the King must still be standing at the end of this.” 

“I’m still your older brother you know.” He smiled wryly. 

“Please,” she grinned back. “You’re a distant cousin, at best.” 

His face broke into a wide grin. 

Allayria Dayne was still staring at her hands. Jaime heaved another sigh before leaning forward in his seat. 

“You will go with Jon. You’ll take your place as Hand of the King.” He told her.

“How can you say that.” She shook her head. “These are my people. The threat is from my own people! Dorne has betrayed the crown. I should-.”

“Nonsense.” Jon hissed. “Dorne  is the Crown. My son is of Dorne. Our queen is of Dorne. These traitors are traitors of Dorne as much as they are to the Crown.”

“Your Grace-.” She shook her head. 

“I’ll have no more of it Allayria.” He said easily. “I’ll need you at my side.”

“Since my brother sees himself disposable-.” Tyrion grumbled, looking up from his chair as Gendry appeared with Ser Mykel. Jaime took them both in, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible. 

“I intend to survive this yet Tyrion. No need to write my eulogy.” 

“And when she just roasts you on site?” He hissed. 

“What do you suppose we do then?” His brother tilted his head and looked at the ceiling. 

“We leave here. We move the capital. To Highgarden or even better, the Rock. We-.”

“We will not abandon Kings Landing.” Jaime snapped back. “Or it’s people.”

The room looked up as the Master or War hurried in to the room, taking his seat beside Grey Worm.

“Ser Redford we have reason to believe an attack on Kings Landing is imminent.” The King announced. “We have traitors in our mists.”

Ser Mykel looked vaguely ill, his eyes sweeping between the faces in the room. 

“Your Grace?” He squinted.

“We have learned that House Dalt has aligned with the Dragon Queen.” 

“Dalt..” The Master of War tipped his eyes towards Tarly. “They are-. Of-..”

“Lemon’s on a blue background.” Grey Worm recited. “Lemonwood. They trade with Essos.”

“Very good Ser Grey.” Jaime said softly. “The younger bother of House Dalt has been captured in the Stormlands, plotting to rescue the imposter Queen. Their plans to attack the capital have been uncovered.”

“She will still come.” Grey Worm fixed his eyes on Jaime.   


“She will.” Arya agreed. “Which is why Jon must leave.” 

“You both will stay behind with Ser Jaime in the capital.” The King announced.    


“Where will you go?” Redford asked absently. Jaime kept his eyes on Grey Worm.

“Sunspear.” Tyrion answered. “To be with the Queen.” 

Jaime saw Grey Worms eyes flash just a little before meeting his own. 

…………….

**  
  
**

“Don’t look at me like that.” Jaime sighed heavily. 

“Like what?” Tyrion raised an eyebrow. “Like you’re an idiot that I’m never going to see again?”

“Exactly like that.” His brother huffed. 

“Did you give any thought at all to your family-.” Tyrion began. 

“Of course I did!” He snapped back at him. 

“Your wife will have my head if I-.”

“My wife would understand that protecting the King and the People of Kings Landing is the most important-.”

“If you think for one second that woman would survive-.”

“Of course she’ll survive!” He yelped. “Of course she will. She has four children to think of. She has the West to run and a Kingdom to help protect. She is stronger that you and I and the Seven combined. And you will be at her side reminding her of such each step of the way!” 

“Jaime!” Tyrion moaned. 

“I killed my King to save this city. To save this Kingdom.” Jaime reminded him. “I killed our sister to do the same.” He swallowed hard. “You’d think that might give you more faith in me-.”

“She took down WInterfell with out ever touching one dragon claw to the ground.” Tyrion mumbled. 

“Yes.” The Hand mumbled. “She did.” 

“She despises you.”

“She does.”

“I’m responsible for bringing her here in the first place. I am-.” Tyrion rung his hands. 

“Going to advise Jon. Going to retrieve your wife and children. You’ll raise Winterfell from the ashes.” Jaime choked a little before adding. “And you’ll teach my son how to be who he is. Without apology.” 

The Lord of Winterfell stopped talking and held his brothers eyes for a long moment. 

“I thought we were done with the tearful goodbyes.” Tyrion’s voice rasped out of the silence that cloaked the room after Jaime’s declaration. His big bother dropped to his knees and hugged him close. 

“Just one more.” Jaime sighed. “When all of this is over, you and Sansa will bring my niece and nephew to the Rock and we’ll spend some time together. If I know Brienne she’ll want to help with the new planing for Winterfell.” 

Tyrion nodded as Jaime gave him a pat before standing back to his full height. 

“Are you sure about this plan?” Tyrion asked again as he made his way to the door.

“I am.” He nodded, holding his chin high. 

“I hope you’re right about this, Jaime.” Tyrion muttered as he left.

“Me too little brother.” He sighed to himself. “Me too.”

**  
  
**

…………………

**  
  
**

Jaime had never been to Weeping Town, and he suddenly found that quite ironic, that he may die there. 

He watched as the Lord Commander of the City Watch welcome the Dragonless Dragon Queen arrive on the banks by boat. With a quick look to him, Grey Worm gave the ropes about his arms a tug and Jaime Lannister tumbled to the ground before the Dragon Queens feet. 

“My Queen.” He dropped his head in a deep bow. 

“Grey Worm.” She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “I was told you served the false King?” 

“I have waited for your return.” He told her softly. “I have brought you Jaime Lannister.”

“I asked for King Jon.” She said sharply, raising her eyebrow towards the other man in the room. 

“We were unable to do so Your Grace. The Lord Commander of the Kings Gaurd was able to smuggle him out. The received a letter from Storms End that betrayed us.They have taken him to Sunspear, to be with the false Queen and their heir. Your people will rise to meet us.”

**  
  
**

“If you think you can defeat the Dornish you are sadly mistaken.”Growled the man at her feet. Grey Worm kicked him roughly in the side. “They will rise up against you. And you will be defeated.” 

“They will not rise. The will cower and beg for the life of their false Queen.” Daenerys said slowly. “Bring him. I want him to see me kill his latest Usurper.” 

Jaime turned his face up to her for the first time. 

“His claim was stronger.” He grinned. “And his coin landed on the right side. Unlike yours, and your father before you. I should have stuck my sword in your back when I had the chance.” 

Grey Worms next blow pushed him into the dirt. His face skidding across the ground as his bound arms strained in a failed attempt to block his fall.

“Silence!” The man beside him growled as he struggled back to his knees. . 

“We should kill him here.” Redford told her giving him a long look. “Smug Bastard.”

“Untie me and give it a try, Traitor.” Jaime laughed. “You’re no match for an old cripple. You weren’t worth the Vale. Six Kingdoms would have served us better than you.” 

“I want him to see me kill his false monarch.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I want to see what happens when you defy fire and blood. I want him to see the birth of the three headed dragon.”

Jaime looked up sharply, something in his mind clicking slowly. He’d heard that before, but where?

The dragon must have three heads.

……………………

****  
  


Tyrion ran his hands over the scroll again before handing it to Sam. He looked down at it gravely. 

“We’re sure?” Samwell Tarly asked honestly. “This will start another war.”

“She started another war the second she brought her beast to our shores.” He exhaled evenly.

Sam nodded firmly before turning towards the Ravens he’d locked away in the portable cage, looking for the one trained for the West. One bound for the Twins, and the final bound all the way to the Northwestern corner of Westeros. 

Tryion rubbed his hands together, his eyes gazing out the flaps of the hastily erected tent. 

“Now my idiot brother just has to stay alive.” 


	9. The Hardest Fight, It’s True

**The Hardest Fight, It’s True**  
  
Horn Hill

Talla Tyrell stood motionless, watching the scene unfold infront of her. Her sister in-law had set up a makeshift table in the courtyard and was frantically arranging large kettles of what looked to be stew along it. Her brown curls smacking against her back as she worked. Talla gripped at the heavy bread basket in her arms, pulling it tighter to her chest.

“Let me.” Her nephew offered, moving silently towards her and gripping the handles of the barrel like container that was nearly the size of him. She meant to protest, but Little Sam had already taken the bounty and half hobbled over to his mother’s side. Gilly patted the boys shoulder affectionately before sending him off on another task.

Talla swung her wide eyed gaze across the room to wear the hulking form of the Lady of Casterly Rock stood stone faced and unblinking as her eyes studied the map that the Lord of Winterfell had rolled out on the rocky stone retaining wall that he was perched on. He looked to Talla like one of those stone statues of monsters that used to sit on the walls of old septs along the Mander River when she was a child. The Lord of the Twins shook his dark head at the both of them before stabbing frantically at the map until he and the Imp were snapping at each other and the brutish woman clenched her teeth and walked away.

She felt the back door swing open and her brother nearly knocked into her as he hurried out of their childhood home. Sam clasped her shoulder before moving by with a quick, apologetic smile. She took a moment to remember that her chubby, shy, older sibling; who had sat on the rock wall and watched over her and their younger sisters while they had played in this very courtyard, was now Grand Maester, and maybe more impressively, Lord of the Reach.

“Well?” Gilly looked up at him expectantly.

“There are no major concerns. Almost everyone is in good health.” He nodded back at her. “And in good spirits.”

“Wonderful.” Lord Stark grumbled over the busy group. “I like my armies healthy before they’re fried to a crisp.”

“No one needs anything?” Gilly said softly, ignoring the other man.

“Everyone seems to be able to feed and shelter themselves.”

“We make a giant target with a sea of red tents circling us like a bulls eye.” Lord Bronn snorted loudly.

“Where would you have the Westerners sleep then?” Tyrion snorted. “In the local brothel like the men from the Twins?”

“At least they're out of sight!” He snorted.

“They’ll be out of commission, unable to walk right should we sit much longer, and the Reach out of wine.” The Imp shot back.

“Boys need to remember what they’re fighting for!” The other man sneered,

“I’m sorry if my men so outnumber yours that they take up too much space Lord Blackwater, however a disciplined force like the Westerlands can surely set up camp without being overly conspicuous.” The Lady Paramount of the West said loudly, her back still to both men, stopping each mid insult. “If we could get back to the task at hand while I’m not yet confirmed as a widow that would be helpful.”

Talla widened her eyes, catching her husband's gaze from across the courtyard. Luther Tyrell’s round orbs were almost as big as her own.

Sam had sent a raven saying that Horn Hill was to become host to the armies of the Reach and the West as they marched to defend their King and Queen. Luther had laughed as she read his good brother’s scroll to him. He wasn’t laughing now as the High Houses of Westeros milled around his backyard, arguing amongst themselves as his good sister struggled to gather enough food to feed them, let alone the massive contingents of rallied bannermen sitting at the foot of the Red Mountains just outside their gates.

“Brienne, I didn’t mean to make light of-.” Lord Stark began shaking his head woefully.

“Don’t apologize Tyrion. I can’t take one minute more of your self pity.” She snipped at him and he drew away from her, exchanging glances with another man across the yard, Daven Lannister gave his cousin a quick nod before crossing the room and taking his Lady Liege by the elbow, closing a gloved hand around her plated arm. She turned to him sharply before taking in his features and Talla watched her body sag in realization. He spoke quickly and she nodded back. Tyrion watched as he led her back towards the house, turning slowly towards Sam.

“We should focus.” Talla’s brother said softly, gesturing back to the map.

….

Daven’s horse led hers along the rocky edge of the mountain’s base, open cave mouths gaped along the mossy ridge where tree line met stone. The most elite of the Lannister Army’s archers dropped bows as their Lady approached. The soldiers at the base were mostly from the Rock. She recognized each of their faces as they bowed to her and Daven muttered a greeting to each by name.

His own Stuart Guard (in actuality She realized he was her Stuart Guard, or at least Jaime’s) stood at the hidden entrance of the mouth of the largest cave.

“Ser Daven.” The man nodded a bow reverently before turning to his Lady. “Ser Brienne.”

She smiled as he held her mount while she disembarked, adjusting her cloak over herself, feeling uncertain in shedding her armor before taking this outing, but as she pressed through the drapery hung in a section of the cave she remembered why. Addam Marbrand looked up from the rich Lannister red carpet he was sitting on and closed the book in his hand.

“Look who’s come?” He whispered softly and Brienne watched two sets of eyes rise in her direction. Joanna’s soft smile seemed to light the dark cave as she nudged at her sister who sprung off Addam’s lap and attached herself to her mother's leg.

“Mummy.” She whispered as Brienne bent to swing her into her arms, burying her face in her silky Lannister curls.

She met Joanna’s curious eyes before they darted to the curtained opening, hoping for Jaime. Brienne gave her a sad smile and her face dimmed.

“The boys are both sleeping.” Addam reported softly. “The girls and I were reading about Lan the Clever.”

“Thank you Lord Commander.” Brienne’s face twitched slightly and he grinned.

“All part of the service.” He brushed his hand down Joanna’s back. “Anything?”

“Nothing new.” She said softly.

“That’s probably a good sign.” Brienne lifted her eyes to the new voice. “If she’d-“ King Jon stopped, his eyes fluttering to Joanna before returning to her mother’s face. “If anything had developed, we’d probably have heard right away.”

“Your Grace.” She murmured at Jon by way of formal greeting, but he waved his hand at her dismissively.

“Please Ser Brienne, I’m hiding in a garishly decorated cave sharing a babysitter with your children, Jon is fine.” He snorted, dropping into a plush velvet chair.”

“Did you expect less from the Lannisters?” She smiled despite herself.

“The West travels in style.” Daven snorted in mock defense. “We have taste you know.”

“I’m sorry.” Jon told her, ignoring Jaime’s cousin in the same way he frequently ignored Jaime himself. “I did try to stop him.”

“I’m afraid there is not much chance of that once he’s gotten an idea in his head.” She sighed.

“Girls?” Daven said joiivally, taking the book from the Lord Commanders lap. “Why don’t we go finish your story before bed? Your Lady Mother can join us after she speaks with His Majesty.”

Lyanna protested slightly as Daven peeled her away but a quick bouncing jostle had her giggling again. Brienne exchanged another long look at her eldest child before she followed her cousin through another set of curtains.

“He’s still alive, Brienne.” Jon said quickly. “They need him alive.”

“Why?” She asked frankly. “Who do they think they can barter him for? You? The Queen? Do you think that they feel Dorne will hand over Prince Robb to spare the Kingslayer?” Jon looked away. “I don’t know what he was thinking with this foolish plan! Over inflating his importance once again while-.”

“He was thinking that he is Hand of the King and that gives him value.” Addam spoke up, pushing himself off of the carpet. “He was thinking that it would keep them from coming for Jon. It would give her a win that would get her passage out of King's Landing without dragon fire. Those people are his people and they would not risk harming him by firing upon her beast!”

“Where does it end?” Brienne shouted at her husband’s dearest friend. “Where does he put himself and our family before his incessant need to protect-?”

“When the six of you reached the rock.” Addam interrupted again. “When he’d done his duty and kept his oath and paid his debts!”

“Well he’s never going to get there now is he?” She quipped, her voice coming out ragged. “Once again he’s run off to get himself killed and-.”

“You have such little faith in him?” Addam asked her quietly. Brienne shut her mouth. “When he has such great faith in you?”

She could feel her chin quiver as she dropped onto a gold cushioned settee, pressing her hands into her face.

“Once we get you to the Rock-.”

“I’m not going to the Rock.” She moaned horsley. “Not without Jaime.”

“Brienne.” Jon hissed.

“I will go tomorrow to rescue the Queen and young Prince but Tyrion and Daven will escort you West.” She informed him with steely resolve. “I’m going to find my husband.”

Addam looked at Jon before looking at the time carved ceiling, his mouth shutting firmly.

“I could order you.” Jon warned.

“Please don’t.” She let the words rush out of her like breath. “I would hate to have to disobey the Ccrown.”

Jon put his hands on his hips and studied the carpet like it held the answers

“Don’t take too long.” He said after a few long moments. “If Arya returns with Sansa before you’re back they’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

Brienne nodded, swallowing hard at the thought of her good sister.

“I’ll do my best, Your Majesty.” She sighed.

That night she decided not to return to Horn Hill, instead she settled herself on the ridiculously comfortable bed roll that had been set up in one of the recesses of the cave, draped in fine linen and soft bedding with her two month old son in a basket beside her and her three older children; each draped indelicately over her body like sand bags.

She listened to Joanna tell her brothers the stories that she and Lyanna had learned about Lan the Clever, comparing him to her Uncle Tyrion. She didn’t move Lya away when her little legs twitched and kicked at her back. She took long breaths through her nose against her baby’s neck absorbing his smell and let Arthur tangle his chubby fingers in her hair.

She dreamt of Jaime.

......................................

  
**The Eastern Beaches of Dorn**

Elia Martell stood rod straight beside her husband.

“Eyes forward.” She reminded him, as Edric’s eyes skittered left, then right to insure his scorpions were in fact ready and aimed; that the water pumps stood by to quench the dragon fire.

Storm’s End had held their own and so would Dorne.

Sunspear would not become the next Winterfell, he swore it silently to the memory of his uncle, Ser Arthur Dayne.

He turned his head back to face the approaching beast.

_I am the Prince of Dorne, Uncle to the heir to the Seven Kingdoms, the Sword of the Morning. I will not yield._

The water swooped and rippled, sending droplets into the air and down onto the Dornish Army as the great beast landed in the water walking forward slowly until it’s passenger could dismount. She whispered something to it before moving forward. She approached slowly at first, her arms hanging easily at her sides, proving herself unarmed.

Ed wondered how far dragon fire reached, as he gulped down the fear building in him. Ser Balon shifted slightly beside him, as if to remind him of all they’d discussed as each raven arrived.

The woman was nearly in front of him now, he heard the swords unsheathe behind him. He could see Balon’s hand go to his own hilt, just as Ed’s itched to do.

“Steady, My Lord.” The other man whispered, he shifted his eyes to the large grey ship that appeared beside the dragon, Ella’s fingers fumbled against his own as a small rowboat emerged from its side. The Dragon Queen turned her head slightly, but kept her wild violet eyes forward, waiting.

Ed took his wife’s hand in his.

A tall lanky man appeared on the shore, his silver hair pinned off his face and Ed recognized him from sketchings from his tutor’s books and portraits he’d seen in the history halls at the Hall of Learning.

_It was Rhaegar Targaryen in the flesh._

Beside him Ser Balon gasped, his hand tightening on his sword, and the Prince of Dorne thought he too saw the ghost, until movement caught his eye and he saw what the King’s Guard had.

The Lord Hand, battered and bloody and in chains by the Commander of the City Guard.

“Lord Dayne.” Daenery’s turned her body back square to face him as her voice carried across the short distance. “May I present to you my Nephew, Aegon Targaryen.” He lips lifted a bit at the edges. “The **true** Aegon Targaryen. The true King of the Seven Kingdoms”


	10. I hear your SOS, your SOS

**I hear your SOS, your SOS**

Sunspear

Jaime Lannister once again felt like he was on display. It brought him back to another time, when he’d sat in his own filth in Robb Stark’s pen, unknowingly wasting his last days intact. His last days as a master swordsmen. 

He had a hard time remembering that man now. The man he’d been before his wife had stumbled upon him and made him a better person. The cocky man he’d been before he realized how little he actually had to be cocky about. 

But now, with his only remaining hand chained to a hook on the table and his other arm tied to the chair where he sat; he remembered the sentiment. A group of men stood before him, gawking like he was a sideshow attraction at this treat. He glanced at the Dragon Queen, her chin held high as she looked at him haughtily. 

_Come now young Prince of Dorne, sit down with me at your table. See my might. Envy my beauty. Coware beneath my dragon. Puzzle at my newly resurrected King._

_Now in this stall, the infamous Kingslayer. See him brought to heel._

_Now be so dazzled you give your nephew over to me. Give the Dragon it’s third head. For the brain dazed handless Hand cannot remember it’s significance!_

  
  


He’d panicked at Dragonstone, when he had heard King Aegon would be arriving on the marrow. He’d feared they’d captured Jon and all was lost. When the ghost of Rhaegar himself had stood before him, Jaime had feared he was already dead and just hadn’t realized it yet. He was still unsure he had it totally figured out, remembering the tiny bloody corps of the original Aegon laying at the foot of Robert Baratheon’s newly conquered throne.

He glanced up at Grey Worm who cast his gaze of disdain in his direction. 

“It’s not possible.” He murmured. “Yet there he stands.” 

The young man, Jon’s brother if it was to be believed, looked back at him warily from across the room. 

He watched Ser Balon stand at Edrick’s side as the nervous boy glanced in Jaime’s direction. He hoped the soft nod he gave was reassuring, but he doubted it. 

“If he is who he says he is-.” Grey Worm began. “He is the older brother.” 

“By two months.” Jaime groused. “And if Ella’s marriage was set aside? What does that do?”

“You're asking me?” His guard gave him a sharp look. “I have little understanding of your lines of succession.” 

“I’m tied to a chair, beaten half to death and looking at a ghost.” Jaime snorted indignantly. “I trust your judgement better than my own currently.”

“I’ll try not to let it go to my head, Ser.” Grey Worm told him dryly. 

“That man with him..” Jaime’s mind reached backward again, searching for another memory just beyond the reach of his hazy brain. “Who is he?”

“His Hand.” The Lord Commander of the City watch’s face did not turn towards him this time. 

“I’d like to speak to him then.” Jaime rasped. “Hand to Hand.”

“You need rest.” His captor hissed. “You’re not well.”

“How nice of you to notice.” Jaime snickered. “This fever will do nothing but further dull my mind. I’ll rest later.”

Jaime’s brain itched, his eyes studying the man. His blue hair showed the faintest of grey at the roots he was older than Jaime, but not by much. He knew him, they'd clearly crossed paths before. The strain of thought caused his brain to throb against his skull.

The group staring at him began to surround themselves with a swirl of sound. 

“He needs a Maester.” Ser Balon’s voice stood out above the others. 

“Nonsense.” Came the Dragon Queen’s sharp melodic voice. “He’s fine. Tell them you’re fine Kingslayer.” 

_Yes_ . Jaime thought, attempting to clear his head. _Include me, Your Grace._

“I’m more than fine.” He barked. “Your hospitality has been legendary Lady Targaryen. Although I am remiss that I haven’t had a chance to meet New Aegon’s small council. Jaime Lannister, Hand of the King.” He eyed the familiar man as he lifted his remaining palm as far from the table as he could. “I’m sorry, I remiss I’ve forgotten your name.” 

“I am the one remiss, Ser Jaime.” Daenerys’ perfect eyebrow rose in mock reverence. “This is Lord Griff. Lord Griff, this the Hand of the false King.”

_No_ . Jaime thought, squinting his eyes at the man. _That isn’t who you are at all._ The grey of his beard gave away the dye job. He figured it had been done to match the boy, who's own hair was still streaked with faded blue. To pass Rhaegar's son off as his own, there was.. something. Something so familiar.

“We’ve met.” The bound man grit his teeth. “But where I am not sure.”

“You are mistaken.” He said gruffly, and Jaime watched the whiskers at his lips move as he spoke. The spatters of grey mixed with a soft almost pink color. He hissed as the memory hit him of a grinning Red Ronnet insulting his wife, of the crack of gold hand against ruined teeth at Harrenhal. Of a lucky spinning fist making contact with his face at the East Gate. 

“Connington.” He whispered, his eyes squinted in pain. Through the slots Jaime saw the familiar stranger gasp. It’s the last thing he saw before he passed out. 

…………..

Jon Conington walked slowly down the hallway behind Daenerys’ lanky guard. The man had roused him from his bed and told him that his presence was requested, he had assumed he meant by the Queen, but as he was lead down a dark narrow hallway he began to wonder. 

“Whom am I to meet?” He asked gruffly, pulling absently at the cuff of his shirt. 

The man, Grey Worm, he’d been introduced as (the most peculiar name) said nothing as he opened the door and ushered him through it. On the bed, in the darkness was the hunched silhouette of the Kingslayer. Jon went to balk, went to protest or demand to be taken to his King immediately, but then he remembered the way Jaime Lannister had whispered his true name before he slumped to his side. 

“What’s the meaning of this?” He muttered looking at the former unsullied. 

“I asked to see you.” Croaked the man on the bed. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Jaime Lannister.” He lifted his head. “And you’re Jon Conington. I remember you. I took me a while, but.. I remember you.”

Jon said nothing. 

“Is he really Aegon Targaryn?” The Kingslayer continued. “Tell it true.”

“He is.” Jon answered gruffly. “The true King. Son of Rhaegar.”

“Rhaegar had two sons.” Lannister continued. “Your King has a brother.”

“Rhaegar had but one-.”

“He named him Jon.” Jaime interrupted him swiftly. “Did she tell you that? That the boys name was Jon? And that he’s just, and kind. Silent and brooding, like his father?”

Griff stood statue still for a moment. Considering what the man said. Considering what it meant. 

“I have always remembered Rhaegar that way. A gentle soul. A romantic.” Jaime smiled wistfully. “Not an ambitious power hungry bone in his body.” Jon swallowed hard, watching Lannister raise his face to him. “Your Aegon seems the same, I believe he’d make a good King. Much like his brother already is.” 

He glanced at Grey Worm, the man stood motionless. 

“He wouldn’t, lets say, torch an entire city out of blind rage?” The Kingslayer continued. “She burned Varys to a crisp as well. Did she tell you that?” 

Jon swallowed hard. 

“Sounds like something Arys would have done, not Rhaegar.” Jaime breathed. “Rhaegar loved the people, and they loved him in return. Much like they love his son, _Jon_.” Jaime sighed. “I’m afraid you may have aligned yourself and your boy with the wrong Targaryen.”

“Big words for a crippled man chained to a bed.” Jon choked out, not really believing the words as they fell from his lips. He’d seen her rage and he’d recognized it. 

“Perhaps.” Jaime sighed. “But Rhaegar was my Prince, and I would gladly have had him as my King, as I have had his son.” 

Conington looked from the man to the door, then back at Grey Worm.

“I’ll take my leave now.” He mumbled, lifting his arm to scratch at his grey head. He saw the slender man flinch, and immediately dropped his arm away. 

“Another thing.” Jaime said calmly, like was commenting on the weather. “Jon surrounds himself with the best of the best. His Grand Maester has even found a cure for Grey Scale.”

Jon looked back at him, but he was looking at the wall. The other man moved towards him, motioning towards the door. Conington had a quick burst of indignance at being dismissed by a prisoner, but he found himself exiting the room anyway. 

…. 

  
  
  


_Tower of Joy_

_  
_ Brienne watched as Podrick rode off with the Queen and Prince Robb before turning to Tormund. Her blue eyes piercing into his. 

“The fasts way to Sunspear would be by boat.” The wildling told her earnestly, a strand of oiled black hair falling over his face, he grimaced as he smoothed it back into place. “If we travel to Wyl, and sail through the Step Stones.” 

“Its over a days ride to Wyl. Yarnwood is closer.” Brienne muttered “The Yarn River is about two hours south of here, we can follow it to the Sea of Dorne. We could be to Sunspear by morning if we have good winds.” 

“Lead the way Ser.” Tormund nodded. Brienne regarded him for a long moment. 

“You should know I don’t have a plan.” She confessed blankly. He snorted and shrugged at her. “And we’re going up against a dragon.”

“Couldn’t be worse than a dead giant.” He groused. “Lets go get your Kingkiller.” 

Brienne gave him a stiff nod, turning back to her palfrey, her hand moved against its haunches. 

“Tormund.” She whispered, not facing him as he turned back to her. “Thank you.”

  
  


…

_Sunspear_

That night Cersei came to him. 

He awoke to her sitting at the foot of his bed, looking at him with a sneer. 

_“You always were the stupidest Lannister.”_ She sighed, shaking her head at him. “ _Did you really think appealing to his greater good would work?”_

“He loved him.”Jaime rasped, his throat grating like sandpaper. “Worshiped him.”

“‘ _He named him Jon’ Idiot. Ned Stark named him Jon, after Jon Arryn_.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. 

“He doesn’t know that. No one but Bran Stark can know that for sure.” Jaime argued. “He was the man’s best friend. Mayhaps he wanted to name him after him and not just rename him after his frist born son. Who are we to say?”

Cersei snorted, Jaime coughed until his chest hurt. 

_“You’re going to die._ ” She told him with annoyance. _“You’re going to die for a useless King who won’t remain on the Throne another turn of the seasons.”_

“I’d die for him.” Jaime mumbled. “I’d die to keep him on the throne another day if need be.” His twin tisked loudly, luling her head away from him in disgust. “But I wouldn’t count me out Cers. I’ve been left for dead quiet a few times, but my heart keeps beating.”

“ _You think she’ll come for you._ ” Cersei scoffed. “ _The woman who bore you a dwarfed son?”_

“She’s given me four healthy children. We named one for Mother.” He swallowed hard, calling Joanna’s curious gaze to the forefront of his mind. “She’s as clever as Tyrion and as beautiful as you, but as gentle as her mother.” Cersei looked away bitterly. “I’ve quite enjoyed fatherhood.” He whispered, before smiling. “And yes. She’ll come for me.”

“ _And I shall be there to greet you both in the seven hells when the dragon sets her aflame at first sight._ ” Cersei raised a crisp eyebrow, but Jaime just pressed his lips together tightly, still grinning.

“If I had to wager on her or a dragon, I’d take her every time.” He smiled. 

………….

_The base of Red Mountains_

Lady Joanna Lannister sat primly on the wooden bench of the carriage, listening to her uncle whisper not so softly. 

“How you could let her-?” He huffed.

“You think I could stop her?” Ser Addam scoffed back. Joanna wondered who the _her_ was. SHed been very carefully watching Lya, and as far as she knew her naughty little sister had been nothing but the model Lannister for the entire trip from the Twins. 

She considered for a moment that perhaps she was the topic of the heated conversation, but she was unsure why. She hadn’t done anything. Well, anything that Uncle Tyrion knew about anyway. As far as he was concerned she was just an innocent babe. She glanced towards him, batting her eyes. He smiled at her before turning back to the Lord Commander. 

“It’s settled.” Tyrion said sharply. “You returned with out her you’ll take her along.”

“We agreed to keep the party small.” Ser Addam balked, swinging an arm towards the old wooden wheelhouse. “I already have a wagon full of people I must-.”

“You maybe Lord Commander of the Kingsgaurd but before any of that you are a bannerman of the West. You were born and raised to protect your liege and at this moment-.” Tyrion swung his arm towards his niece. “She is it.”

Joanna watched the two men stare at each other, her Uncle’s eyes softening in the way her father’s did when he talked about something sad. Joanna missed her father. 

“They’re coming back Tyrion.” Ser Addam said softly.

Her Uncle swallowed hard before his voice came out raspy. 

“Of course they are.” 

“I’ll let them know.” His friend looked towards the carriage. “That the Lady of Casterly rock will be coming along with us.”

“Thank you.” Tyrion whispered softly before walking towards her. “Lady Jo, I need to have a talk with you.” He tugged her close, tucking her under his arm. “Your Mummy has gone to get your Papa.” He told her calmly. 

“Will we wait for them here?” She asked him softly, knowing the answer before her uncle dropped his face and showed her his sad eyes.

“No. We will all venture on towards the Rock.” He lifted his eyebrows and tried to look happy, Joanna thought it made him look surprised. “We are splitting up into groups. Lady Gilly will be taking Baby Jon with her, I will travel with Arthur and Lyanna will go with Ser Podrick.” He traced her cheek with his finger. “You will go with Ser Addam.”

When Joanna realized she was the her they were discussing, her face morphed into a pout. 

“I promised Papa I’d keep after Lya.” She said sheepishly. “I should stay with her.”

“Now. If anyone can keep after Lyanna as good as you can it has to be Pod don’t you think?” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “And you have a very important role. You are going to travel with the royal family, as the official representative of the Westerlands. You can tell them about each household you pass on the way. You can do that for me can’t you, Jo?” 

She could. Her Papa had taught her the banners of each house. The words of each family and an embarrassing detail or two. 

_“Now listen, Sweetling.”_ He’d say leaning closer. _“These are what’s important. These are the things that keep the bannermen in line.”_

“I can, Uncle.” She whispered. “I will.” 

He snuggled her closer and she sunk into his chest. 

“Lady Arya has gone to fetch Cat and Rickon.” He whispered into her golden curls. “We’ll all be together at the Rock.”

“And Papa?” She pressed her eyes tightly shut, not wanting to hear the answer. “Mumma will bring him home?”

“You’re mother has gone to fetch him.” He repeated with a long sigh. 

…………

  
  


Tyrion stood with his young nephew on his hip, looking at his nieces before him. Pod had dropped into a crouch, clutching the fidgety Lyanna to his chest as Jo approached her little sister, placing her hands on each side of her chubby face, the way that Brienne so often did to Jaime. 

“You must be good for Podrick, Lya.” She told her urgently, the smallest hint of tears in her voice. “No mischief until we reach the Rock. Then Papa will come and he will teach us about the caves and cliffs and we will be free to be little lionesses. Remember? Remember what Papa says? What do the lionesses say?”

Lyanna smiled at her sister, with an enthusiastic nod before making a soft roar, swiping out her hand. 

“We will all be together at the Rock.” She whispered, hugging at Lya as Pod pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Tyrion swallowed hard before handing the babe in his arms off to Bronn and taking Joanna by the arm. He listened to Podrick try to calm a fussing Lyanna as he led her big sister away. He clenched his jaw as he heard her sob out the childs’ nickname.

“Jojo.” She whimpered against Podricks shoulder as he hurried her away. “Jojo. Mumma. Papa.” 

He looked down at the heir to Casterly Rock, just a two moons shy of her fifth birthday. She looked up at him and for just a second the terror showed on her face. Then in true Lannister fashion, the mask of formality slipped itself into place. 

Tyrion had already decided that he and Sansa would stay at the Rock. Winterfell lay in ruin, and it would fall to Bran to do what needed to be done. He would raise his brothers children up the way that Jaime and Brienne would have. Little lions, fearlessly exploring cliffs and caves. He opened the door to the little wooden wheelhouse, it’s dilapidated appearance hiding the treasure inside. 

He looked at his King, who smiled softly at him before extending his hand. 

“Lady Lannister.” He took Joanna’s fingers lightly in his own. “I’m honored to have you with us on this journey.” 

She stepped lightly into the carriage, bowing gently to the Queen who sat with her eyes half mass, her toddler slung sleeping across her legs. 

“Your Grace.” She purred with all of Jaime’s charm. “The honor is mine indeed.”

Tyrion swallowed hard before pressing the door shut and watching Addam and Ser Harold spur the horses away. He moved back to where Bronn stood holding Athur and reached his arms out for the boy, and climbing onto the back of the straw cart as Lord Blackwater mounted the attached horse. He looked to where Podrick leaned against a nearby tree holding Lyanna tightly against his body. He tried not to listen to her faint wail as it greeted his ears, he pulled Arthur onto his lap as the horse drawn cart jolted forward and off to take the southern route to the rock. 

  
  
  



	11. Though You Have Been Broken

Though you have been broken  
Bear Island

......

Arya Baratheon had only seen the child before her one other time, but the little girl’s raven red locks couldn’t be mistaken for anything but Tully, and the toddler encircled in her legs was an almost bittersweet peek at her own boy. 

  
  


“Tom-a-lin and his wife and his wife’s mother, They went over a bridge all three together.” The little girl was singing, clapping the babe’s hands with her own. Ser Irwin straightened for a second as she slipped into view, before his posture relaxed again. Arya only noticed him as an after thought, she was stuck in a memory of long ago. Her sister’s voice reaching out from their childhood. She remembered looking up at her with the same adoration that Rickon was currently bestowing on his older sister. “The bridge was broken and they fell in;-”

“The Stranger go with all’, said Tom-a-lin.” Arya finished, her voice melting into the soft tones she used with Ned. 

Cat looked up at her in alarm, pulling her brother to her chest. 

“Your Mumma used to say it fast and shake her legs.” She whispered. 

“And you’d scream and giggle.” Came a low voice from across the yard, Arya looked up at her sister once more before Sansa barreled into her embrace. “You came.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” She mumbled into Sansa’s shoulder. 

“I feared.” She sniffed. 

“The North Remembers.” Arya teased. 

  
“Tyrion?” Her sister’s voice squeaked out the question. 

“Fine. He’s fine.” Arya soothed as Sansa didn’t let go of her. “Jon and Bran are fine too.”

“Tell me you’ve killed her.” She sniffed, Arya found herself petting her sisters long locks. 

“Not yet.” She sighed heavily. “But we will.”

“Mummy?” Sansa pulled back a bit to face Cat’s questioning glance, her hand still grasping her sister’s cloak. 

“Your Aunt has arrived, as promised, to escort us to-.” She swung her eyes back to her sister’s.

“Casterly Rock.” Arya said softly, looking at Catlyn’s gleeful eyes. 

“Yes.” Sansa whispered softly. Arya looked worriedly into her tearful eyes, feeling her thin fingers rub frantically at the material on her shoulder. “The Rock.” 

……..

  
  


_Sunspear_

“Ah.. at last we meet.” Dany’s voice came out sickeningly sweet. “Your Grace.”

Jaime’s head snapped up so quickly the room spun, and for a second before the world righted itself, he saw Sarella Stark standing before him in her long grey gound with red dragons and snakes swirled in the skirt. He looked worriedly at Grey Worm who seemed his usual blank self. 

“No.” The word slipped out of his mouth before his fevered brain had a chance to stop it and he strained against his restraints.

“Oh Kingslayer! Good you’re awake! I was afraid you’d miss it.” She glared at him. “That I’d kept you alive for nothing.” 

_No. No. No_. Jaime would not fail another one. He would not watch as another damn dragon killed another woman he’d sworn an oath to protect. He would not allow this Kingdom to succumb to the game of thrones yet again. He strained against his bonds frantically until Grey Worms hand came down softly on his shoulder.

“Steady. Look at her.” He murmured, before yelling. “Be still!” 

Jaime’s brain reached for the words and let it sink into his aching skull, before warily eyeing the girl. It was not Sarella Stark. She was smaller, thinner.. It was the younger sister, Obella, her dark eyes so much like her departed aunt Jaime gasped. 

“Old ghosts.” He breathed. _Rhaegar and now Elia._ It seemed that Aegon may have had a similar though as he eyed the woman cautiously. 

“Hello Cousin.” She said smoothly, in a voice that was very clearly not Queen Sarella. She ignored Daenerys completely, settling her eyes on the young man. “Pity your aunt seems intent to fry me. I would have loved to tell you of House Martell.”

_Well played, girl._ Jaime thought to himself, his shoulders relaxing under Ser Grey’s grip. _Once a sand snake always a sand snake, legitimized or no._

He felt his mind attempt to stray to Myrcella, as it did when he took the time to ponder Dorne, but he pushed it away. Now was not the time. Ser Ballon stood before her resolute, while Jaime scanned the crowd for Ser Mykel. He would quickly give the game away, but he was nowhere to be seen. 

“Steady.” Grey Worm repeated, Jaime looked up but he was focused straight ahead. Jaime tried to trust. 

“I fear that you will not have time for such a trip down memory lane.” Dany tilted her pretty head. 

“Do you not speak?” Obella asked the ghost of Rhaegar, Jaime watched him swallow hard, his hands gripping each other at his sword belt. “Are we sure of your identity? Neither branch of your tree are known for holding back.”

Jaime watched Dany’s face crumple with annoyance as she stepped forward, placing herself between the two. He did not miss the way Jon Connington’s back went rod straight and hand touched hilt when she did. 

“Enough.” The mother of dragon said sharply. “I have no time for another false queen to waste.”

Obella shared a long look with Aegon before her eyes slid towards the small woman. 

“My husband did tell me of your impatience, Good Aunt.” She said softly. “But If I am a false queen you are as well, for it is my cousin that holds the stronger claim. I would speak to him. Monarch to Monarch.” 

Jaime’s eyebrows hit his hairline. 

“I will stake my claim with fire and blood if I must.” Dany whispered harshly. 

“Yes.” Obella Martell looked at her as if she was an unruly child. “My husband told me that as well.” She glanced back at Aegon almost warmly before looking at her King’s Guard with a raised brow. “If you bring your beast any closer, my Good Brother will fire our Scorpions. You are here as a guest of the Prince of Dorne.”

“It seems Dorne has chosen a King over a Prince.” Dany said hotly, turning her head to look around. “Where are your armies? Have you not called your banners, Oh Prince of Dorne?” 

“Our Banners are off protecting our King.” Ed spoke sternly, moving forward, seemly embolden by his good sister’s performance. 

“The King who left his wife and child behind to die?” Dany churped. “Men do betray you in the end. As your husband betrayed me. Fear not, I will raise Aerys to be kind and loyal. Where is he? I can wait no longer to meet the dragon’s third head.”

“My son’s name is Robb.” Obella whispered. “And if you think we all will not die before we deliver him to you-.”

“It would be a shame to torch this Keep.” She looked up at the beautiful adorned ceilings. “But I will. I will set ablaze each child of age until I find the unburnt.”

It was the first time Jaime saw the young Dornish woman falter. Her eyes flickering with something akin to disgust. 

“Oh for Seven can you not see what she is?” Jaime groused loudly. “Kill the dragon now while it sits at sea! Put an end to this madness!” He squawked. “She’s nothing with out the beast! Edric, do what Jon could not!”

Grey Worm’s heavy hand returned to his shoulders, pressing firmly in warning, but he plowed on. 

“End this! Someone just-.” The need for air increased at the same speed that his head seemed to fill with fog. He could feel Grey Worm’s hands on him holding him upright, until he felt nothing at all.

  
  


………………...

Shipbound 

Northern Sunset Sea

……….

“How is Brienne?” Sansa whispered cupping her hand over Cat’s ear as she leaned over her sleeping form.

“Stoic as always.” Arya answered honestly, her eyebrows raising. Sansa watched how her sister traced Rickon’s tiny face with her pinky finger as she caught her up.

“That’s not real, you know? She feels things, deeper than most.”

“I know.” She sighed. “Everyone’s being careful with her. Pod and Gilly have been helping with the children.”

“He truly looks like yours?” Sansa asked, her eyes bright, as Arya nodded. 

“Ned’s eyes are brown, like mine. These are clearly Lannister green.” She smiled slyly. “I miss him.” 

“It’s so odd.” The older Stark girl whispered. “Arya underfoot, a mother.”

“That’s exactly what Jon said when we brought him to court.” She smirked. “I probably don’t do it right.” She sniffed and Sansa tilted her pretty head at her. “I don’t wave rattles over his head or coddle him. He’s got calluses on his fingers already from plucking bow strings. I’m positive his first true words will be something crude.” She watched her little sister trace her son’s face with her thumb and forefinger with a gentleness she’d never seen from her before. “I sent him off with the Hound for the sake of the Gods.”

“We both know that Sandor Clegan would go to any ends to protect a child. Anyhow,” Sansa countered. “You love him. I can see it in the way you hold Rickon that you love your boy. That’s the most important thing.”

Arya blushed slightly before nodding. 

“Gendry’s soft with him. He does all the motherly things.” She teased and Sansa smiled. 

“I know you didn’t want this life.” She whispered. “But it suits you.”

“I am surprised by just how willing I am to do anything to protect it.” Arya’s eyes met Sansa’s and they shared a long knowing look. “Jon is a kind and gentle ruler. He has done so much. I won’t allow him to be overthrown. Even if I have to take matters into my own hands.”

“I would expect nothing less of you, Sister.” Sansa swallowed.

“When you and these winter born babes are safely delivered to your lord husband, I’m traveling on to Dorne.” She nodded back to her nephew. “If my day comes, so be it; but do promise me my child will know he was loved by his mother.” 

Sansa swallowed and nodded tightly, her arm reaching out and grasping her sister's wrist tightly. 

“And Gendry.” Sansa leaned in and strained to hear her sibling’s plea. “Tell him it was worth it, being his lady.” 

………….

Sunspear

She jumped when his body shuttered into consciousness, her left hand tightening against his right shoulder as she shushed him. 

“It’s alright.” She soothed, moving the cool rag on his forehead. “It’s just me.”

One green eye opened curiously into hers. 

“Am I dreaming?” His rough voice washed over her in slow lapping waves of calm and she struggled to keep her smirk from becoming a full smile. 

“If you are, it’s quite a pitiful dream, me sneaking into your cell. You can do better.” She huffed. 

“What in the seven hells are you doing here you maddeningly stubborn woman?” He winced, his eyes sinking back shut as he brought his hand up to grasp her wrist, his thumb stroking at the tender inside above her pulse. 

“You really thought I’d just go onto the Rock?” She snorted, letting her other hand rest on his chest. “Really Jaime, do you know me that poorly?”

“I was hoping Jon would order you again.” He sighed, pressing his lips against her palm.

“I wouldn’t have liked to see him try.” She snorted. “I don’t fancy being once again an enemy of the crown.”

“Your infuriating need to put yourself at risk-.” He began.

“Yes.” She interrupted firmly. “It must be so frustrating when the person you love so deeply insists on sacrificing themself for the greater good.”

“Alright.” He relented after a moment's silence. “Alright.”

She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his, and Jaime sighed, releasing her arm and cupping his hand against her face. 

“Grey Worms caught you up?” He breathed, letting his head tilt to rest his cheek against her. 

“He has.” She pressed her lips at the corner of his mouth and he let out a small whine. “He’s guarding the door for the night.”

“You need to get to Aegon. He seems malleable, like he’s gotten caught up without really understanding-.” He stopped to catch his breath as the rapid words made his chest tight. 

“I will do what needs to be done.” She comforted, pushing up from his body despite the protest he gave, his left hand reaching for her. She returned with a cup and helped him sit just enough to press it to his lips without spilling. He winced at the bitterness. “Once your fever breaks.”

She watched him swallow it down before standing and dampening the rag with one hand as she undid the ties of her leather vest, letting it slip off her shoulders before tossing it on the chair and slipping into the bed beside him. 

“I’ll be alright.” He complained weakly. “You should-.”

“I’ve had quite enough of you telling me what I should do, Ser.” She sighed, pressing her lips against the side of his face. “I need this as much as you do.”

“The children?” He inquired softly, as his body moved towards her warmth like a moth to a flame.

“On their way to the Rock.” She hoped her voice didn’t betray her growing fear for the safety of their children. “Tyrion has it well in hand, and Addam and Podrick. They’ll be fine.” 

“Tyrion must get them to the West-.” His hand gripped at the thin fabric of her undershirt as she moved the rag across his sweat stained face. 

“He knows.” She said softly. 

“You shouldn’t have come.” He murmured. “We may very well die here.” She pulled him tight against her. “Myrcella..” He mumbled his late daughter's name unconsciously. She pressed her eyes shut and shushed his fears. 

“I’ve faced certain death before and you’ve always come for me, Jaime.” She reminded him. “Once the world was ending and you risked everything to come to my side. Even if it was only to die.” She pressed her lips to his radiating forehead, her voice slightly muffled by his skin. “And we survived that didn’t we?” 

He made an affirmative noise and she felt his eyelashes flutter shut against her. 

“I’ve missed you.” He sighed into her shoulder, she gripped him tighter. “Are they afraid?” 

“No.” She chuckled despite herself, feeling his cheeks twitch. “It’s all been a grand adventure.”

“Tell me about Jon. Is he a good babe?”

“Thankfully yes. He’s more like Joanna than Lya or Arthur. Content to be held and fed, for now at least.”

“Joanna..” He sighed in nearly the same manner he’d whispered Myrcella. 

“She misses her Papa.” Brienne rubbed her hand in slow circles on Jaime’s back as he coughed roughly. “Always a little more yours, that one.”

“She’s brave like you.” He swallowed. “And she has your eyes.”

“And your fair maiden features.” She teased, he sniffed at her. 

“I’ve quite loved being a proper father.” His voice drifted airily. 

“You act as if the job is through, Ser.” She leaned back and raised an eyebrow, but his face was slack with fatigue and his eyes had already slipped shut. “You have quite a few more years of that left to accomplish, My Darling.”

“Love you.” He slurred and she pressed her palm to the back of his head kissing his forehead again and holding him tightly against her. 

“And I you.” His brow felt less fevered already, the herbs Grey Worm had managed smuggled in were doing their trick. She hummed against him, feeling her own body relax at his familiar embrace. 

She let her mind drift to her children, imagining them carefully making their way through the reach. They’d be safe in the West. Daven had kept a tight hold, surely if there had been any hold outs loyal to the false queen he’d have known. 

She had to trust in Tyrion. She had to. Her focus had to be fully here. She had to rescue her husband. She had a Dragon to kill.

  
  
  
  


  
  
  



	12. I'll Be Your Shelter

**I'll be your shelter**

**Casterly Rock**

Tyrion had designed it so that his group would be the last to arrive at the Rock. He closed his eyes and prayed to the Mother as the dingy cart approached the open mouthed lion of his family's home. 

He looked up at the white horse that thundered down the walkway towards him and sighed in relief at the site of Addam Marbrand astride it. 

“You’re a site for sore eyes.” He called out to the man, before he caught site of Addam’s expression. “What?”

“My Lord.” A Lannister Guard he didn’t know was lifting Arthur from his reluctant arms and handing him off to a nurse he found vaguely familiar. She cooed at him as he burst into tears at being separated from his uncle. 

“I can keep him.” He called weakly watching the boys legs kick in protest. 

“He needs a bath and a change, Lord Stark.” She tisked, moving towards the waiting wheelhouse. 

“So do I.” Tyrion muttered. 

“Lord Stark?” The Lord Commander’s voice brought him back to the matter at hand. 

“Out with it.” Tyrion dusted his legs off before walking to the end of the wagon where someone had set a step box. 

“The Northern Party has yet to arrive.” Addam told him grimly. 

“Damn.” Tyrion grunted. “And how is your Lady?”

“She’ll be happy to see my young lord.” Addam exhaled slowly, pointing towards the retreating wheelhouse. 

“Nothing at all?” Tyrion made his way over to his waiting horse and walked up the stairs provided. It was the first time that he’d had these accommodations since leaving Winterfell, and he was happy to be home. 

“No.”

“Could be they’re just delayed.” He sat for a second before coaxing his horse forward towards the Rock. 

“We knew it was a risk; them skirting that close to the Iron Islands.” Addam reminded him. 

“Yara assured us-.”

“And I assume a month ago Dorne would have assured us total allegiance as well.” Addam interrupted sharply. “It’s why we sent Podrick, he was the most unrecognizable. Lyanna however is not. She practically has Lannister written across her forehead.”

“Pod would kill or die before he’d allow a hand to be laid on Lyanna.” Tyrion huffed. 

“Let’s hope it didn’t come to that. Let’s hope they had bad roads. Or that the little Wildling was causing too much ruckus and he felt the need to stop.” Tyrion nodded at Addam. “Peck’s leading a small party. Hopefully they’ll find them soon.”

“I need to speak with Jon, but then I should go to Joanna.” 

“You should. First, however; you should go to the cavern docks. Seem’s a ship waving a Baratheon flag has been spotted coming in port about a half an hour ago.” Aadam couldn’t help but smile as Tyion’s head shot up. The man wordlessly nodded against the strain in his throat before looking to the left. “Go. His Grace would insist you to go.” 

Lord Stark nodded again before spurring his horse down the left path way.

…………

**Sunspear**

“Kingslayer.” Jaime looked from Connington to his wife with unconcealed alarm, watching her hand slip to the pommel of her sword. Griff put his hands up in front of himself looking between the two of them. “I’ve come to talk with you. I didn’t realize-.”

“My wife.” Jaime said carefully, his body instinctively moving between them.

“Brienne of Tarth.” He nodded, looking at her as if she was a marvel. “I know of you.”

“I’m sure you do.” Brienne growled, stepping closer to Jaime. 

“Selwyn’s daughter.” He nodded. “Your father was a good man.”

“Her father still is a good man.” Jaime corrected. 

“I don’t mean any harm.” He raised his palms towards them. “I came to speak about-.” The man stopped speaking, running his hand through his blue hair. Jaime watched him swallow hard before looking back at him. “Treason? Reunification? I’m not sure what it is exactly.”

“A family reunion perhaps?” Jaime offered, reaching across his body and laying his hand against the one Brienne had clutched around the hilt of her sword. He felt her grip go slack. 

“Perhaps.” The other man took a deep breath. 

“We’re listening.” He said cautiously, sitting back on the mattress. 

…..

**The caverns beneath Casterly Rock**

She spotted him before the boat had been moored, one of the attendants helped him off of his horse and he watched with wide eyes as the ship stilled and the plank was lowered. 

“Tyrion.” His name slipped airly out of her lips as his eyes met hers. He was too far away to hear her, but she felt like he’d heard her anyway. She hadn’t fully believed in her husband’s survival until this very second, she realized, as the heavy weight in her chest fell away. “Tyrion.”

She glanced across the deck at Arya who was squatting in front of Cat, turning her daughter towards the exit ramp, pointing a slim finger at the stout man walking towards it. Sansa’s chest clenched as her daughter started to cry, her sister gave her a little nudge and she stumbled towards her father’s arms. Sansa watched Tyrion’s face crumple into their daughter’s raven tresses before she pulled her baby to her shoulder and hurried down the plank dropping to her knees and pressing her head into his shoulder. 

“I don’t think I really believed you alive.” She whispered into his shirt, her hand pressing into her daughters back,. 

“I tried to send a raven myself, but they told me it was to dangerous.” He sighed. “You know I’m hard to be rid of.” He murmured back pressing his lips into the fine hairs at the front of her hairline. “Let me see my boy.” She pulled back a little and swung the babe around between them. “Oh Gods, look how big you’ve gotten.” Rickon reached out his chubby fingers, sliding them into the familiar crack of his fathers face with delight. “Hello.” Tyrion turned to Cat who was still clinging to his arm and kissed her head before nudging Sansa’s face up with his elbow and pressing his lips to hers. “Hello.” He repeated, his words muffled against her mouth. His hand came up and pulled the baby’s face towards his chin. “I’ve missed you all so much.”

“My Lord?” A guard behind them muttered with only the slightest bit of impatience. “The ship?” 

“Yes, yes.” Tyrion huffed as Sansa shuffled Rickon into his arms before looking over her shoulder. “Go on.” He urged, leading his daughter down the ramp, as he called over his shoulder. “Lady Baratheon, thank you for seeing my family safely home.”

“Any time, Lord Stark.” She called just before she was knocked back by her sisters embrace. “Oof!”

“Come home.” 

“I will.” Arya sighed. “Tell him..” 

“I will.” Sansa hugged her sister tighter before wrenching herself away and hurrying back towards the catacombs of Casterly Rock.

……………..

On the bank of the Sunset Sea Gendry Baratheon stood still as the jetting rocks beside him, as the wide bow of the ship slid from underneath the castle, using the pulling tide to glide it before the pushing crest shoved it around the curve. He slid his eyes across the deck until he spotted her. She leaned back, pulling the sail around her slight form before helping one of the sailors tie it off with the efficacy that only a Stormlander could possess naturally. He had his wife had spent weeks sailing with Selwyn Tarth across Shipbreakers Bay and around the narrow sea until Brienne’s father had anointed them both worthy of their titles. He’d been correct, watching his bride now was a marvel. 

She laughed at whatever the man said, before moving back towards the rail and he smiled despite the ache in his chest. He knew the exact moment she noticed her husband watching, her usually unyieldingly inexpressive form flinching at the sight before she seemed to melt towards him unconsciously. He smiled at her softly, whatever she’d decided to yell towards him lost in the sound of sea hitting stone. He pressed his lips to his palm and reached it forward, her own palm stretching against her chest as the boat started to turn to stern. He watched her clamor down the side of the rail to keep her eyes on him until he was out of sight, wondering if was going to be the last time he saw her. 

…..

**Sunspear**

“I’m just saying..” Tormund turned his sleek black head towards her lazily. “We killed the dead one.”

Grey Worm watched Ser Brienne’s head lul back. 

“It killed the dead one!” She moaned.

“Rhaegal killed Viserion.” He corrected absently, watching as Drogon fretted and snorted in the sea, held in place with chains and fetters once more. 

“Whatever.” Tormund groused. “I think we could take it. Aim the scorpion at it and -.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.” Grey Worm’s head swung around towards the new voice as Tormund’s weapon swung up from his side. He watched Brienne step forward, her arm outstretched. 

“Wait.” She ordered softly, her body gesturing towards the newcomer. “Can we help you, Your Grace?” 

“Are you allowed to call me that?” The young man’s face pinched into a look that reminded Grey Worm of Jon, his eyebrow rose in surprise. “Isn’t it treason?” 

“You are the King’s Brother.” She said evenly.

“Allegedly?” He asked cheekily, brushing his hand back through his blue locks. 

“My husband believes you. Says you look like your father.” She blinked at him. “The Martells believe you, say you have the look of theirs.” 

The young man looked away, and Tormund withdrew, shoving his sword back into his belt. 

“Look.. Aegon--.”

“Call me Griffen.” The man shrugged. “It’ll make things easier. All with all the secret Ageon’s lurking around.” Tormund gave a hearty chuckle, the lost prince raised his eyebrow. 

“It’s just your voice sound so much like him.”

“Jon.” Young Griff said softly. 

“Aye.” Tormund smiled. “Remind me of him too. Back before the wars, when he was still a boy.”

“I’m older than he-.”

“War ages you.” Grey Worm interrupted. “This war will age you. Change you. You and thousands of innocents.”

“Danaerys says no one is innocent. “

“Danaerys is wrong.” Brienne said firmly. 

“I followed her. I loved her.” Grey Worm told him boldly. “Until I saw what she became. What side the coin landed on.” He glanced at Brienne, who’s lips twitched upward. “Until I watched her kill surrendering armies, children in the street..”

Griff held his eyes for a minute before nodding. 

“And my brother? You serve him?” 

“It’s been my honor.” The man’s steely eyes held Jon’s sibling’s in their gaze. Griff nodded again. 

“Drogon tires of her spite.” He huffed. “He wants nothing more than to return to Essos. He has been used in this as much as we have been.” Grey Worm looked towards the huffing dragon and returned to Griff with a tight nod. “He shouldn’t die for her mistakes.”

“You can feel him?” Brienne spoke softly. 

“From what I understand..” He began after a small nod. “Jon may be able to sever him from her. They have a relationship. He is  _ Stark _ . A warg.” He looked back at the beast. “And he is a  _ Dragon _ .” He looked at each one of them carefully. “I’d rather not kill the last of a kind.” 

Grey Worm looked back at Drogon, then back at Griff’s retreating form as he made his way back towards the Shadow City. 

  
  


,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

  
  


**Casterly Rock**

Sansa rocked the screaming babe in her arms in quick jerky motions as she paced about the room. 

“What was she thinking?” She moaned over Baby Jon’s head. 

“She was thinking she wasn’t willing to become a widow without at fight.” Tyrion huffed. 

“It’s selfish!” His wife yelped and Jon’s cries became louder. “She’s a mother! Her children need her!” 

“She knew her children would be well cared for.” Tyrion argued, wincing at Jon’s frightened wail. 

“They should be well cared for by their mother!” She moved Jon to her other arm when Tyrion attempted to reach for his nephew. He moved towards her again just as the door flew open and Gilly Tarley rushed in. 

  
  


“I beg your pardon, Lady Stark, the wet nurse is ready for him now.” She grasped Jon firmly under his arms and pulled him toward her chest. 

“I told you I’m perfectly capable-.” Sansa started, her hand still under the infants head as she plucked at her buttons with the free one.

“Oh yes, but I thought you’d want some time with Lord Tyrion.” Gilly lied expertly backing up until Sansa’s hand pulled away. “I’ll bring him back when he’s satiated.” She glanced towards him as she exited the room, cooing and soothing the babe. “There now. It’s alright.” She murmured as Jon instantly quieted in calmer hands. 

He looked back a her wife, her Tully eyes fixated on the doorway. 

“You know how my brother and good sister are.” Tyrion said cautiously. “One of them is always riding to the other's rescue, pulling them back from the brink. It’s what they do.” 

His wife’s face went ashen as she slipped onto the small sofa in their chambers. 

“Were these your rooms?” She asked softly. “When you were a boy?”

He stopped and looked around, shaking his head. 

“Joanna and Cat are in those.” He told her softly. 

“These are different, then the ones we had last visit.”

“Daven’s been making changes, in anticipation of Jaime’s arrival. These were..” He looked around absently. “Cersei’s I think.”

“I tried to go back for you.” He had to strain to hear her. “They wouldn’t let me.”

“Sansa.” She bent forward, putting her face in her hands, he moved to stand in front of her, cupping the back of her head with his palm. 

“They wouldn’t let me. I was screaming and Bran lowered the gate and Irwin picked me up and carried me! He carried me away. Rickon was bleeding, I dropped him. I dropped my baby! And Cat was so scared and I-”

“Shh. Shh. No.” He pulled her forward until he could wrap his arms around her, kissing the crown of her head. “You did everything right. You and the children were the priority. You had to get someplace safe. No Darling.”

“But your brother-.”

“We are not Brienne and Jaime.” Tyrion snickered. 

“If it had been me in need of rescue-.” She sniffed heavily.

“I’d have sent Brienne and Jaime.” He teased and Sansa chuckled before it turned into a quiet sob. “You did everything right. And because of that our children sleep soundly across the hall.”

“Anything from Pod?” She looked back up at him.

“Not yet. Give Peck some time.” He brushed her hair from her tear damp face. 

“He can be trusted?” She sniffed. 

“We are safe in the West.” He promised her firmly. “Peck was Jaime’s squire before he went North. A good lad. He’s loyal. He’ll find Lyanna.”

“I’m starting to think the name is a curse.” She bit her lip. 

“Lyanna is named after a warrior, who was named after a warrior.” He smiled at her. “And she’s just as wild as you remember her. She’ll be fine.”

“I’m so tired, Tyrion.” She whispered laying her head back against his shoulder. “I haven’t slept soundly since-.” 

“We will survive this.” He sighed, pressing his cheek against hers. “We’re together now. We’re stronger that way.” 

“We may very well have just become parents of six children under the age of five.” She sniffed out a laugh into his neck and he grunted. 

“So we should sleep while we can.” He teased. 

“I missed you so.” Tyrion felt her lips ghost his neck and he closed his eyes, pressing at the back of her head with his hand. 

“I’m here now.” He sighed. “Let’s go to bed.”

  
  


“The baby-.” She protested, her face jerking up and looking towards the door. 

“Let Gilly care for him a little while longer. I want you to myself tonight.” His voice muffled against her temple, making her sigh. 

“As my Lord Husband commands.” Sansa whispered softly, pulling back and giving him a small smile. 

……

**Sunspear**

“It’s set then?” Jaime asked, quickly rising off the bed when his wife came into the room. She crossed the room, pulling her sword belt off as she went. “He got off okay?” 

Brienne ignored his chatter, coming around to face him, running her hands down from his forehead to his neck. 

“How’s your breathing been?” She asked, her hands cupping his jaw and tilting his head up to examine his face. 

“Fine. Fine.” He sighed, his good hand wrapping around her bicep, while his stumped arm slunk absently around her waist. “Did Tormund get off?”

“Have you been coughing?” She turned her wrist and brushed the back of her fingers across his cheek. 

“Brienne, I’m fine.” He took her hand pulling it to his lips before dropping them to his side. 

“Tormund is off. Hopefully he’ll have word to Tyrion by tomorrow.” She whispered, the her other hand pulling at the messy locks stuck to his forehead. 

“If Cunnington is to be trusted he’s in the process of calling off their loyalists.” Jaime huffed, glancing around the room urgently. “So now I guess we just sit around and wait until-.”

Brienne silenced him with her mouth, seizing his lips with hers. His sentence broke off into a low moan, and he gazed at her in confusion when they separated. 

“Hello Husband.” She whispered softly. 

“Are you seriously-?” She kissed him again. 

“Grey Worm put one of the Dornishmen at the door.” She breathed. “We have nothing to do but wait.” His breath caught in his throat as her hand left his and started moving at the ties of his breaches. “It’s been over two moons, Jaime. When’s the last time it’s been more than two moons?”

“We’re at war.” He murmured weakly against her mouth. 

“We were at war when we conceived Joanna.” She countered. 

“Are we trying to conceive, My Love?” He teased, finally responding to her in kind. 

“We certainly are not.” She snorted, plucking at the laces of her shirt as he attempted to nudge it aside with his nose. 

“No? You don’t fancy a Dornish souvenir?” He breathed. 

“Isn’t that how we got Arthur?” She squinted. “The royal wedding?”

“Another Dornish Souvenir?” He murmured finally moving her shift aside enough to grasp her nipple between his teeth. She hissed, palming the back of his head. 

“Sorry.” He snickered, soothing it with his tongue. 

“I forgot you’ve been nursing.”

“Not really.” She sighed. “The wet nurse has had him more than I.” Her fingers combed though his hair, her desperate touch becoming soft. “I’ve barely spent a minute-.”

“We have a lifetime.” He told her gently. “My Love, we have a lifetime to make it up to them.” Her chest shuttered beneath his cheek as he pressed his lips against her breastbone. “Soon.”

She nodded, her own mouth pressing into the crown of her head as she sniffed back tears. 

“Come here.” He whispered pulling her back to the bed. “Come here. Let me love you.” 

. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	13. Your innocence stolen

**Your innocence stolen**

**Sunspear**

“I think Aegon should treat with him.” Connington’s voice broke the silence in the room. 

“He will most certainly not.” Daenerys spoke with the air of authority that made no space for argument. 

Griff looked at his father-. Sorry. Not his father, his  _ Hand _ , over his aunt’s shoulder. Had it been difficult for Jon as well? To find out his father was not his father? To find out he was yet another Aegon Targaryen? He tried to refocus his attention away from his half brother, and back on the room. 

Grey Worm shifted his eyes slightly and the Dragon Queen stopped to look at him. 

“Speak!” She snapped at him, and Griff watched his head twitch with the slightest flash of emotion. The small woman seemed to catch herself then, pulling her spine rod straight before looking to him. “You clearly have something to say.”

“The Dornish hold family as the beginning and end of all things.” He told her stiffly. “He may be able to use it to our advantage.”

Dany raised a slim eyebrow before looking back towards him. Griff watched Jon hold his breath. 

“What say you nephew?” She challenged. Griff took a long slow breath before answering calmly.

“I think this land has seen too much war.” He said solemnly. “A peaceful transfer of power-.”

“If you think the wolves will roll onto their backs in submission at the promise of peace-.”

“I think my _ brother _ may be willing to honor the line of cessation. I think having his wife and child hostage may be a bargaining coin you didn’t have previously.” He let his leg drop from where it had been crossed over the other knee before leaning forward. "We move in to the Reach, request a parlay-.”

“They have scorpions!” She growled.

“We have their queen.” He countered. “Their heir.” 

“They will do anything.” Ser Mykel scoffed. “Jon is weak. He will not sacrifice them.”

“Perhaps Sarella Martell is smarter than her Aunt.” Jon said softly and Griff felt the strangest surge of desire to defend his mother. “Perhaps she sees that she and her boy are better served by being loyal to her blood kin then political marriage.”

“Brokered by a Lannister.” Redford snorted, smugly.

Griff raised an eyebrow at his aunt, tilting his head. 

“Imagine.” He said softly. “What a blow it would be to your ex paramour, to arrive with a dragon, his broken Hand, and his wife as a new ally.”

“And my new betrothed.” She grinned, her body slinking towards him. He steadied his feet against the floor, unmoving as she stood between his legs. Griff took another slow breath, setting one of his large hands on her waist.

“We needn't kill him to ruin him, My Queen.” He said ardently, or at least he hoped it sounded such. She seemed pleased anyway, but he’d found her overconfident that a few quick sweeps of her hips and a fevered look down her slim nose would be enough to secure her hold on him. 

“You may talk to the false queen.” She decided. “Grey Worm will accompany you.”

Again the lanky man nearly bristled at her words. Griff watched with interest, pressing her body back from him as he rose, moving until Ser Grey was matching his stride in the hall outside the room. 

“That went just as the Kingslayer said it would.” The young Targaryn whispered. 

“Things usually do.” He said with an emotionless smirk.

“She disgusts you.” He observed, looking towards the other man. He said nothing. “Has she strayed that much from the woman you followed?” 

Griff made the turn towards the guards at the entrance to Sunspear’s great hall. Grey Worm nodded at the men who quickly let them pass. 

“No.” He grunted. “I did not know what freedom was when she freed me from my captors.” The unsullied looked at him evenly. “I did not realize that I had left slavery for servitude until I was shown the difference.”

“You don’t serve my brother?” Griff asks. 

“Not without autonomy.” He swallowed, blinking into the other man’s eyes. “Not without choice. Not without a seat at the table.” 

Griff nodded, but Ser Grey had already turned towards the group. 

“She’s agreed to the parlay.” 

“Jon has left the Rock. He’s on his way to Highgarden.” The big Northerner, Tormund, told him with a rough nod. 

“I’ll need to speak to Connington.” Jaime Lannister stood from his chair and started towards him befoe Tormund’s large paw grasped at his upper arm. 

“That’ll wait.” The other man said. “I need to speak with you.” He lifted a scroll in his hand pointing it towards the hall .”From your brother” The Kingslayers eyes moved towards his rather assuming bride but the giant shook his head roughly. “Just you.”

Lannister nodded and followed his messenger to the edge of the room. 

“Bravo cousin.” Obella Martell looked at him proudly. “You’ve inherited the Martell talent of mummery.” 

“Thank you.” He said softly before giving her a long mocking bow. “Your Grace.”

“I wanted to show you something.” She blinked her dark eyes at him and he nodded, following her down at hallway, sweeping the farthest door open. He looked blankly around the room and it’s garish furnishing before she took him by the arms. He startled, casting a look back over his shoulder at the small woman, she rolled her eyes before squaring his body. She took a slim hand and pushed his chin back towards the wall. “Aegon Targaryen?”

He heard the breath catch awkwardly in his suddenly tight throat.

“Meet Princess Elia Martell.” She said proudly as his eyes soaked in the vivid portrait on the wall before him. “Your mother.” 

  
  


………..

“We move to Highgarden.” Brienne moved the blunt end of the pen around the parchment, following Tyrion’s tight instruction as Edric tried to keep up. “Our men from Silver Hill and Crakenhall will be traveling with him, plus the men of Blackharbor that road with them West. The rest of the Crownlands will stay to hold King’s Landing. Ashford and Brightwater have been moved to Highgarden and Horn Hill’s men will accompany us forward. We’ll need to-.”

Her instruction died in her throat as she felt a tingling sensation march up her spine, the energy in the room had shifted. Her eyes shot to the door way where she had last seen her husband. He stood holding a piece of parchment arms length from his paling face. Tormund's hand resting softly on his shoulder as he squinted at the paper. He looked towards her before rubbing at his face with his right forearm and hurrying out the door. 

The unofficial leader of the Free Folk looked at her with something akin to pity and she cast her worried eyes back to Tyrion’s paper. 

“Tormund will finish this up with you.” She said loud enough for the other man to hear, he came towards them with a nod. “I’m needed elsewhere.”

She heard Jaime before she reached the door of the room he’d recently been moved to at the insistence of ‘Queen Sarella’. The violent crashing of things being tossed about the room made her heart beat even faster as she threw the door open just as the heavy metal water basin it the floor with a twangy clang. 

“What is it?” She asked in alarm as he swung around wildly to meet her. He pressed his teeth together tightly with a grimace before dropping onto the bed and burying his face in his hand and forearm. “Jaime?”

“Tyrion split the children up on the way to the Rock. He felt they had the best chance of survival that way. He made a wager.” He looked away, his eyes stopping on each of items he’d thrown. “He took such care in picking which child went with which chaperone. He must have put hours-.”

“Jaime what happened?” Brienne felt her stomach drop as her husband’s frantic gaze met hers. 

“He took Arthur himself up the Ocean Road, sent the babe with Gilly and Sam along the Gold Road and Jo went along with the royal family up the Coast of the Sunset Sea.” Jaime swallowed hard. “He sent Lya with Pod up the Mander River they were to take Blackwater Rush to the Stoney Sept. They were supposed to check in a Deep Den before going down the River Road.”

“Supposed to?” She said softly. Jaime’s hand reached out slowly for hers and he pulled her towards him. 

“They never reached Deep Den.” She felt his thumb caress her palm in careful slow strokes for a moment before snatching it back. She looked around the room before grabbing a satchel off the floor and started to shove belongings into it. “Brienne.”

“Why are you just sitting here? We have to-.” She shook her head before charging across the room and grabbing her disregarded breast plate. “It will take us a week to get-.”

“Brienne..” Jaime stood slowly from the bed wrapping his fingers around her arm. 

“If we sail up to Kings Landing-.” She yelped trying to pull away as he wrapped his right arm around her middle. 

“Brienne.” He pushed his cheek into the side of her head pulling her body flush against his until she stopped struggling and let out a harsh sob. “Addam has Peck and his bannermen combing through the area and Bronn himself went to Atranta to help with the search. They have a bigger army then Edmure Tully for Gods’ sake.” He pressed his lips against her temple. “They’ll find them.”

“Jaime what if-?”

“None of that.” He told her swiftly. “Pod is probably just carrying on the family tradition of a leisurely stroll through Riverlands.” Brienne sniffed back another sob as he turned her in his arms to face him. She pressed her forehead against his and closed her eyes. “Your former squire will keep her safe until my former squire can get to them.” 

“I should have never left them.” She whispered as he swept the tears from her face with the sleeve of his tunic. “I should have stayed with our children and let Pod come for you. I should never-.”

“Brienne.” He sighed. “They had the Lord Commander, half a Kings guard about ¾ of our banners watching over them.”

“Yet Lyanna is not safe at the Rock, now is she?” She whimpered.

“They’ll find her.” He whispered. 

“Joanna must be beside herself.” Brienne whispered. Jaime sighed heavily and pulled her closer, pressing his face into her neck. “She takes her Papa’s instructions so seriously.”

“She’s dutiful, like her mother.” His voice was muffled against her skin. “Promise me this is it. We’ll get to Casterly and drop the gate and refuse to come out until the children are grown and we’re told old to fight in wars.”

“You’re already too old to fight in wars.” She breathed, dropping her head onto his shoulder.

“Indeed I am.” He whispered in her ear. “Indeed I am.”

“Jaime..” Her voice wavered and she grasped at the front of his shirt. 

“They’ll find her.” He soothed with such calm if she didn’t know him better, she may have thought he might even believe it. 

  
  


***

  
  


**Casterly Rock**

“Lady Jo?” Tyrion Lannister rarely had to stoop to get anywhere, but even he had to bend forward to peer into the opening of the cavern his niece was currently occupying. “May I join you?”

“How did you find me?” She asked, pulling a long lanky leg up to make room in the alcove for her Uncle. 

“Your father and I have combed every bit of this particular set of caverns.” He told her with a wistful grin. “I’m sure if you look around you’ll find little wooden soldiers a young Jaime Lannister left behind.” 

“Papa told us he would show us.” Tyrion watched Joanna’s thin fingers reach out and grasp her knees pulling them closer to her chest. “That we could be wild lionesses no cages could hold.”

“When your sister arrives..” He began carefully. “I will show you the places on the beach where your Papa carved our names in the rocks so deeply the God of the Sea couldn’t even take them.”

“Papa says the Drown God is no match for the Warrior.” She whispered. “He also says that Mumma is the Warrior and the Maiden made one.” 

“He loves your Mumma very much.”

“He’s going to be mad at me.” She breathed, her nails digging at a small scab on the top of her bare foot. 

“Never.” Tyrion admonished. “If your Mumma is your father’s Warrior Maid, then you and your siblings are the children of the forest.”

“Lyanna is dead.” Joanna told him bluntly, her sapphire blue eyes overflowing onto her cheeks as she made her announcement. 

“Joanna there is no word-.”

“Pod would have sent a raven!” She yelped, “He would know I would worry and he would have sent a raven. He’d have had Lya sign her name so I would know she was safe. Pod would know I would worry.” 

Tyrion opened his arms and reached for the little girl, pulling her into a lap she was nearly too big for, but she clung to his neck just the same. 

“Pod will send a raven when he can.” He told her reassuringly. “Sometimes time must go by before you can write a letter.” He stuffed his hand into his pocket and pulled out a scroll. “Just as it had to for your parents.”

He watched his brother’s familiar spark return to his daughters eyes and couldn’t help but grin.

“Shall you read it to me?” He asked unrolling the parchment to reveal Brienne’s tidy script and a funny little lion doodle that looked like something one of the toddlers could have managed. Joanna’s fingers went right towards it, as if she could actually pet the feline.

“Papa.” She whispered, her small mouth drawing up into a smile. 

“Yes. Your mother has found him, and they’re on their way to the Rock as we speak. Just a short stop at Highgarden to check in with King Jon.”

“Perhaps..” She started before swallowing and shifting her eyes from the lion to her uncle. “Perhaps by the time they arrive Pod will have sent a raven?” 

“I find that quiet possible.” Tyrion swallowed. “Well now young lioness, what do your parents have to say?” 

“ _ Dearest Jojo. Today we are near the _ she-i-led shee aye”

“Shield islands”

“ _ Shield islands. We took a boat across the southern coast of Dorne and will be at Highgarden soon. We are using one of our very last ravens to write to you, hoping it reaches you before your name day. Papa wants you to know that he is so proud of you. _ .” She paused as her voice broke, her fingers tracing over the scribbly mane. 

  
“ _ Uncle Tyrion _ .. That’s me.” He teased. “ _ Tells us you are looking after your brothers as well as playing Lady of the Rock to the Royal host. We are sure you will have may stories to tell us and your sister when we are all reunited at the Rock. Papa says to tell you to look out the southern gate and remember we’re on the same sea as you. We miss you, our sweet Joanna. And we’ll be together soon. Love your Mumma and Papa _ .” 

Tyrion sighed as the little girl dropped her head back against his chest, raising her hand to her mouth and slipping the tips of two fingers between her lips like his young son does when he’s over tired. 

“Read it again.” She whispered softly. 

And he did. 

………

**KIng’s Landing**

“When they told me I would find you here I thought my gifts had gone astray.” He called to the small figure on the docks, looking up at the ship before her. “I’d heard you were on your way to Dorne.”

Arya jumped, spinning quickly in surprise, an emotion she had not felt in quiet some time. Her lips slipped open as she studied her little brother’s face. 

She moved towards him, encircling him in a tight hug. “What are you doing here?”

“My ship arrived the day before yours. I’ve come to tame a dragon.” He murmured, bringing his arms up slowly around her. It had been a long time since he had held his sister, and he could feel the warmth radiate from her. It was surprisingly soothing. 

“Is Mira with you?” Arya pulled back, smoothing his brothers furs and looking up his guard. ”Can’t believe she’d have let you sail so far from her sights.”

“There must always be a Stark in Winterfell, Sister. You know that.” He hummed coyly, it made him think of Robb, and he let that sadness wash over him. 

“A Stark-.” Arya’s mouth quirked up at the realization. “You’ve finally met her in the God’s Wood?” 

“What’s left of it.” He said softly, pulling in a slow deep breath, since he had felt more of Brandon Stark seeping back into his body, seemly happy to coexist with the Three Eyed Raven, he’d struggled with the emotions. They still seemed insignificant in the grand picture, and he could justify ignoring them all together, as he had become accustomed to. Yet, sometimes, especially when it had to do with his family or his own personal history, he let the emotion bounce about in his chest for a while before dismissing it. 

“Why the sudden marriage, Brother?” She raised an eyebrow. 

“Stark men don’t fair well south of the neck. Precautions needed to be taken.” He said solemnly matching her raised brow, before his mouth twisted in an attempt not to smile. “To ensure our family’s continued presence in the North.” 

“I’ve missed you, Bran.” She mumbled, wrapping her arms back around him. 

“The North is not the same without my big sister there to show me up.” He sighed into her shoulder. 

“You’re coming to High Garden?” 

“I am.” He pulled back from her before looking North. ”But there is something we must do first.”

“What’s that?”

“Seems the Lannister' s have once again left something precious behind a Harrenhal” 

……….

**Harrenhal**

Ser Podrick Payne had successfully evaded his pursuers for a second time that afternoon, ducking around the passage of a half ruined corridor and into a forgotten wing of the monstrous keep. He slid the heavy stone across the floor before pushing open the door it had been blocking. 

The woman in the corner looked up at him with mild alarm until her face relaxed and her brown eyes slipped closed. 

“How is she?” Podrick asked in a long hushed whisper looking at the small girl nestled in the woman’s arms. 

“The same.” She told him, moving a damp gold curl across her fevered face. “She’s quiet strong.” 

“She is.” He knelt down and took Lyanna from her, a lazy green Lannister eye cracked open and regarded him with a tiny mewl of protest. “I have your favorite.” He told her, quickly reaching for the satchel at his waist and pulled the moist bread from it. “It’s apple tart.” She turned her face away. “Come on, Lya.” He begged, pulling off some crumbs and pressing them to her dry lips. “You have to eat.”

He watched her eyebrows raise as her tongue poked out to collect the sweet bits of bread. 

“Wonderful.” He coaxed, kissing her brow. He turned his head back towards the woman. “I’ve some for you too, and some meat as well.” 

“How?” She murmured as he tossed the satchel at her. “I assume you didn’t just walk into the keep they occupy and ask for her favorite foods?” 

“I went to the kitchens.” He sighed, still attempting to get the little girl to eat the bread. “The ladies there were more than happy to oblige.” 

  
  


“I’m sure.” His companion snickered. ‘Did you offer them to sing for your supper?” 

He couldn’t help but smile, in spite of their circumstance. 

“Not this time.” He watched Lya’s throat bob as she swallowed before lifting her onto his shoulder satisfied with what he’d gotten in her. “I promised you I’d get you out of here, and as soon as she’s well enough we’ll go.”

The woman nodded, Pod reached out his free hand and laid it against her thin arm. She met his eyes.

“Those Bolton Bastards will never touch you again.”


	14. send out an army

**Road to Highgarden**

Daenerys’ watched as the false queen clambered back inside of the wheelhouse, her arms wrapped around the bundled child. She still hadn’t had a glimpse of him, Jon’s son. Her son, she though to herself, the dragon’s third head. She looked at the empty sky behind her, her brow furrowing at the clear blue. It was alright, she told herself, she didn’t need Drogon, she had Aegon. She had Jon’s- her- son. She was the Dragon, the fickle beast could go where it pleased. 

It was the idea of him, the idea of his flames that made her powerful. The memory of it burned into the minds of the people of the Reach, as they watched their crops burn. That image was enough. She had Aegon under her thumb, she knew that, her Sun and Stars had taught her well what could be won with a woman’s body alone. 

She’d see it the moment that Old Griff had brought him to her, the surprise at her beauty, and in that moment she knew that the Targaryn line would rise again. The papers she’d found in the abandoned castle black, hasty writings of an ailing Maester, had spelled out the three heads of the dragon. When the men of Northern Resistance had spoken of the reign of the dragon, she’d known. She would marry Aegon, they would take Jon’s son as their own. They’d complete the triad, and blood and fire would once again rule. 

She looked towards him now, mounted on his horse, the change in him that had come in the last few days apparent. He sat taller, His eyes watched with more interest. His brow furrowed in the way Jon’s did when he was making decisions. He was a lot like Jon, she had to admit that. Despite the white hair, that became more white each day as the blue dye faded away, his face had the same chiseled form, his eyes despite their Targaryen violet squinted and focused just like his brothers. It made Dany feel things that she shouldn’t. 

“What’s the boy like?” She asked Grey Worm suddenly. From his spot in front of her. 

“Like a babe.” He answered shortly and she felt her head snap towards him. 

“Is he a gentle child? Clever?” She raised an eyebrow and watched the man beside her think before giving a quick shrug. 

“He’s a babe.” He told her again. “He’s chubby. He laughs a lot.”

“Does he look like a Dragon?” Her sharp eyes widen and she watched a strange emotion she can’t name flicker across her old companions face before he sucked in a breath. 

“He looks like a babe.” He repeated, before his stride became longer and he moved a head towards the rest of the crowd, falling into step with Aegon. Dany paused for a moment, watching his back her eyes blinking slowly. _Men betray you in the end._

  
  


***

**Harrenhal**

Ser Podrick Payne woke with a start, his eyes trying to adjust to the dark room. He’d been sure he’d heard something, his hands reached desperately, groping until he felt Lya’s little leg beside him. She’d turned in her sleep, nearly upside down, and it made him smile. She was back to her old self a little more each day. He knew they’d have to leave soon, there was no way he could keep the Wildling safely hidden for long. 

She shuddered out a loud sigh beside him, as if to prove his point. He chuckled.

“You’re awake then?” Came a soft voice from the other side of the room. 

“Yes my Lady.” He whispered. It worried him, the fact she was always awake. He didn’t want to imagine what she must see in her dreams. 

“I’ve told you, you don’t have to call me that.” She huffed, but the warmth in her voice betrayed her. She liked it when he called her that and he knew it. “Jeyne is just fine.”

“Yes, Lady Jeyne then.” He teased, hearing the rustling of her skirts as she moved closer to his bedroll, and her thin hands joined his on Lyanna’s tiny body. “She’s cool.”

“She’s going to be fine.” Jeyne said in relief. 

“Because of you.” He told her softly. 

“No.” She laughed, leaning back on her heels. “Because of you, Ser. She’s lucky to have you.”

“If we hadn’t come upon you-.” He shook his head, as if he could dislodge the panic memory of carrying Lyanna’s limp body through the village. How she’d come from nowhere, rushing to aid him, her brown eyes looking worriedly over her shoulder as she examined the lifeless child. She’d been mumbling the names of herbs to aide her, like an old forgotten song, when the sharp call of a man had made her eyes go wide with fear. “You and your funny rhymes.” 

She smiles now in the dark, sniffling. 

  
  


“Maester Lewin was quiet insistent we learn them.” He watched the shadow of her head shake. “An old Nan was nothing if not thorough in her reinforcement of his teachings.”

“Still.” He smiled. “It’s been nearly 15 years.”

“It has.” She breathed softly, before turning her head to the left. “It has. How is that possible?”

“It’s possible because you’re strong.” He reminded her. “You’ve survived.”

“I have.” She murmured back. It was the second day she’d snuck away from her camp to check on Lyanna that Pod had asked her name. His face wrinkling when she had blinked at him, the name Jeyne Poole falling from her still lips as if she’d only just realized that’s who she was. He couldn’t remember why it had sounded familiar then. Didn’t recall Sansa’s dedication of a newly empty keep as Poole’s Keep, in honor of her dear friend Jeyne, long assumed dead. 

The second day when the waif of a girl had sought him out in the Inn with the medicine for the child, he’d watched her as she tended to Lyanna. She wasn’t a whore, Ser Podrick Payne had seen enough whores to know that. She pinned her hair and carried herself like a Lady of a noble house. He wondered if war had brought her to this dirty village Inn, or if it was something more sinister. Only when she began to tut at Lya who had begun to fuss at her mistrations had he picked up the roughness of her Northern speech. 

“Where are you from?” He had asked before he thought better of it. Her brown eyes bouncing frightfully to his face. “You’re not from the Reach.” 

“No where.” She had murmured. “I’m not from anywhere.”

“Clearly North.” He’d continued, not catching her panic, as she glanced behind her at the open door to his small room. 

“I’ve not see the North in more a decade.” She’d snipped. “I’m from no where.”

“Jeyne!” A hearty yell had come from the hall and the woman’s spine straightened.

“You’ll need to give her this, twice a day.” She’d thrust the bag into his chest, with a quick glance behind her. 

“Urswyck, where’s your whore gotten off to now?” The voice had called again.

“She’s about.” Came a gruff answer. “Perhaps she’s gone to gather supplies.” 

Pod had watched, the realization slowly dawning on him that his savior may need saving of her own. 

“I have to go.” The air rushed out of her quickly. 

“You should have never taken her off her leash.” The voice in the hall had bellowed. Pod reached for the womans arm as she retreated. “Jeyne!! Where are you Bitch?” 

“Wait.” Ser Podrick looked from Lyanna towards his sword. “I can protect you.”

“Protect her.” Jenye said gesturing to the little girl as she made her way to the hall. Pod watched a man come towards her, yanking her arm roughly. 

“Come Now! Bitch,” he had hissed. “Didn’t you hear me yelling?”

“I’m sorry Ser.” She murmured meekly Podrick watched them drag her down the hall before moving to the window and watching as he pulled her towards the rest of their party. His eyes widening at the Banners. 

“Brave Companions.” He whispered. _Bloody Mummers,_ he had heard the voice Jaime Lanister mutter in his head. He squinted his eyes and suddenly it all came back to him. “Jeyne Poole.” He sighed, swinging around and looking mournfully at Lyanna on the bed. “Shit.” _Language, Pod._ Came Lady Lannister's retort. “What the hell do I do?” He whispered. 

_In the name of the Mother, I charge you to protect the innocent._

He had still been able to feel the weight of Oathkeeper hovering at his shoulder. He’d looked from the little girl on the bed to the woman being manhandled. 

_So many vows_. Jaime had murmured. 

“Shit.” Podrick Payne had picked up his sword and his young charge and hurried after the Bloody Mummers. 

  
  


Now in the dark hidden room in some forgotten corner of Harrenhal, he watches the smiling woman brush Lya’s golden curls from her face with a soft smile and he knows he did the right thing. He doesn’t know, however, what to do next. 

Thats when he heard the boulder start to shift and wild panic shot him rod straight as he shoved Lyanna towards Jeyne who retreated back into the darkest corner. His fingers were on the hilt of his sword as the door opened to reveal Togg Joth. Pod swallowed, swinging his weapon from its scabbard. He tried to channel every lesson Brienne had ever imparted on him. He would not fail her. He would not let anyone get to Lyanna. He would not allow it. 

“Whoa!” Togg said in a voice that is impossibly odd before pulling at his chin. Podrick watched in disgust as the face of Arya Stark appeared. “At ease, Ser. I come in peace.”

“Arya?” Yelped a voice in the darkness before Jeyne appeared, wide brown eyes full of tears. Pod grabbed Lya up from her as she began to fuss. “Arya Stark?”

The slow realization came to Arya’s face as she took in the state of her sister's childhood friend.

“Jeyne?"

  
“Arya Underfoot.”

“It’s Baratheon now actually.” She mumbled before Jeyne’s body clamped onto hers. 

“There are no more Baratheons.” The woman sobbed.

“Oh but there are.” Arya soothed, rubbing her hand down Jeyne’s messy curls. “I’ll let Sansa tell you all about it as soon as we get to Highgarden.” 

  
  
  


**Highgarden**

“I don’t think you should have come.” Jon pressed his hands against the railing of the balcony, his eyes scanning the skies. “You should have stayed behind at the Rock.” 

“Sweetling..” Sarella Stark moved towards her husband, laying her hand flat on his back. “Half of Westeros is surrounding this castle. I can’t possibly be unsafe here.”

“She has a dragon, Sara.” He grunted, rubbing his face with the flat of his palm. 

“So I should let my sister die in my place then?” She sighed. “That’s your solution?”

“If I had a solution I wouldn’t be kept in a tower at Highgarden awaiting the arrival of my brother-” He stumbled at the word. Robb’s face appearing before him. Sarella leaned forward, letting her forehead settle between his shoulder blades. “What if this is a trap?”

“Jaime would never let you walk into a trap.” She murmured. 

“Jaime could be dead by now.” Jon groaned

“Brienne would never let Jaime be dead.” She chuckled and he couldn’t help fight off a smile. Her arms slipped around his waist. “They’ll be here soon. You’ll feel better with his counsel.”

“You won’t go to the treat.” He told her, rubbing his hands down her arms until they settled upon her delicate fingers. “We’ll save the reveal for the parlay, when we can be sure Obella and our people are safe.” 

She laid her cheek against his back.

“That’s fine. I don’t plan to leave Robb parentless.”

“Yes. King Regent Tyrion Lannister doesn’t fill me with confidence either.”

“Stop.” She giggled. “Tyrion is better than most, and you saw how Robb took to him.” 

“Children always like Tyrion.” Jon scoffed, but he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. “Look at Sansa.”

“Jon!” She smacked at his chest with an open palm. “Your sister is a woman grown.” 

“So they tell me.” He grinned, before growing somber again. “I wonder what he’s like, my brother.”

“You’ll soon see.” She told him softly, and Jon again found himself thinking of his brother, Robb. 


End file.
